


Beauty and the Charming Outlaw

by Harlee_Quinn



Series: Jaxene Universe [10]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 14:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 402,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlee_Quinn/pseuds/Harlee_Quinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the SAMCRO SAA is gravely injured, his estranged daughter comes to Charming to take care of her father while trying to repair their broken relationship. Opie Winston, still mourning his old lady, is instantly smitten with his brother's outrageously outspoken and incredibly sexy daughter. As the pair continue to butt heads, everyone around them, including Daddy Dearest, can see that it's love-at-first-fight. Can Tig's daughter—something of a social misfit—find a way to fit into SAMCRO, while helping the taciturn and beast-like outlaw find love again, even if her father was marginally responsible for the death of his old lady?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Man Down

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The atmosphere in the waiting room of the third floor Surgical Suite was grim. Over the years it seemed as if the Sons of Anarchy had become permanent fixtures in the colorless room. So much blood had been spilled by members and their families alike that the running joke was that maybe this wing should be renamed after the Club. After all, they seemed to spend as much time there as they did at the Clubhouse.

Once again, SAMCRO found itself sitting vigil for another fallen brother. This time it was its Sergeant-at-Arms whose blood had been spilled. He had barely been clinging to life when rushed to St. Thomas earlier in the day and, as the hours slowly passed without news, good or otherwise, the unspoken fear of losing him hung over the crowd packed into the waiting room.

Jackson Teller sat in cold, angry silence with his brothers. By looking at him, you wouldn't be able to tell just how grateful he really was to be alive. Because had it not been for Tig Trager, he was almost sure his bullet-riddled body would be lying on a slab in the hospital's morgue. Instead, thanks to his quick-thinking SAA, he was alive and relatively unharmed considering the circumstances.

Even though the possibility of a sale going wrong always existed, Jax was busy beating himself up for taking for granted that _this one_ in particular would be a simple transaction. It pissed the outlaw off to the extreme to think just how quickly the sale had turned to shit, all because he had let his duty to honor a debt cloud his judgment.

_That's what I get for not listening to my fuckin' gut._

Jax could read people almost as if it were some psychic ability, like he could somehow see into their minds. He rolled his eyes at the thought that it was a gift he had inherited from his mother. In actuality, it was their body language that he tuned into and living a life where he _always_ had something to hide almost made him an expert on what to look for. Sometimes, even before he realized he was reading someone, he'd get an uneasy tightness in his gut that warned him to stay alert and keep on his toes. Listening to that very feeling had saved him, as well as his brothers, on a number of occasions. He had known the moment he had lain eyes on Nate Meineke's son Russell that he should have pulled out of the deal.

But he hadn't.

Jax looked up as his VP sat down next to him in one of the uncomfortable bucket-shaped seats in the waiting room.

"How you holding up, brother?"

Jax ran a hand through his hair. "Not good man. You?"

Opie sighed as he leaned his head back, resting it against the wall. "I fucked up, Jax. This is all my fault. I brought this to the table—"

"Don't even start that shit with me, Ope. There's no way you could've known that it would go sideways. We all voted on it." Jax gave his best friend a hard stare, forcing Opie to acknowledge his point with a slight nod. "Did Hap get everything squared away?"

"Yeah. The scene's been wiped clean. I also spoke to Cacuzza, told him we had an emergency. He's not too thrilled about having to wait a few more days before we can reschedule the delivery, but he understands the situation." Opie explained. "Besides, his buyer just wants the merch and is more than willing to sit tight and wait for our call."

Jax rubbed the hair on his chin in consideration of what Opie had just said. "Sounds good, but we really shouldn't keep Cacuzza waiting too long. He's moving this shit East for us. With us one man down, we can't afford to look weak, like we can't control our shit." He stated. "I say we wait 24 hours, see how shit plays out with Tig and any blowback from law enforcement and then we move the merch. I'll reach out to him personally, offer him 2% of our cut for his inconvenience."

"The potential for some serious blowback is huge, brother. What are we gonna do about those assholes, that fuckin' Meineke bastard?" Opie growled.

The bastard in question was Russell, the son of Nate Meineke, an old war buddy of Opie's dad, Piermont "Piney" Winston. Having served several tours of duty in Vietnam with the future co-founder of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original, Nate Meineke was the man responsible for saving Piney's life at the Battle of Khe Sanh in 1968.

With Nate living close by in Modesto, the two old war vets had kept in touch over the years. When Piney had died three years ago, Nate and a whole platoon of other 'Nam buddies had come to Charming to pay their final respects at the funeral.

Knowing that the Sons were the go-to source for guns in Northern California, Nate had approached Opie, trading on his relationship with Ope's old man to request a favor. He and his son were looking to buy some merch.

Not making any outright promises, Opie had brought the request to the table and Jax had been quick to bring it to a vote. _Debts of blood need to be repaid_ , Jax had said. Nate Meineke had played an integral part in the formation of their way of life. Although Nate was never a member, by saving Piney's life, he had enabled Piney to return stateside, where he not only co-founded the Club with John "JT" Teller, but had also fathered a son, who would not only become his Club brother and VP, but his lifelong best friend. Jax felt that it was right and honorable to grant Meineke's request and their brothers sitting around the table had agreed.

But sometimes being good and honorable, at least by outlaw standards, was the wrong play to make, as Jax soon discovered earlier that day.

* * *

Jax, Opie, Tig and Chibs had set out in plain clothes late in the morning to meet their new buyers in Woodbridge Forest. Located on the outskirts of Modesto, the forest was a densely wooded area used for deer and elk hunting, but also had a number of streams and ponds teeming with a variety of fish.

Coming into the forest on an old logging road with Tig and Chibs in the cargo van and Jax and Opie on their bikes, the Sons pulled into the clearing they had designated for the exchange. It was the middle of the week and the forest, usually teeming with hunters and fishermen during the weekend, was desolate. Parking their rides next to the cargo van, Opie and Jax walked around to the front of the van where Tig and Chibs were waiting.

Leaning against the van Opie eyed his best friend. "I hope Nate shows up on time."

"He better." Tig chimed in. "We need to make this quick 'cause we got Cacuzza's crew meeting us halfway, and they're not the types that like to be kept waiting."

"Nobody likes to be kept waiting around, bro." Jax responded. "I just need the Italians there and waiting for the handover because I have a couple of things to take care of before heading home. I promised Abel we'd work on his bike afterschool."

"Jackie Boy, ya boy's determined to get his arse on dat Sportster, eh?" Chibs commented, lighting up a cigarette.

"I have Ope to thank for that shit. Giving Kenny that Panhead for his birthday lit a fire under my son's ass. Talk about a fuckin' green-eyed monster, he dies a little bit every time he sees Kenny on his bike."

"Hey, don't pin that shit on me." Opie argued. "I was having enough trouble keeping Kenny off of it until he turned 16. I just gave the fuck up. Maybe you should, too."

Jax gave his best friend a withering look. "You want the gavel that bad, just put a bullet in the back of my head, bro, 'cause my old lady won't be that merciful." He deadpanned. "She's already giving me shit about us wanting to finish the rebuild."

"Dat's cuz she knows like mother, like son." Chibs laughed. "Just like lil' luvvie tried driving Piney's monster of a truck when she was 12, she's afraid he's gonna try ridin' tha' bike before he's ready."

Jax smiled devilishly. "My son's ready. I've been giving him lessons for months now."

"Aw, shit. You better not let Doll Face find out." Tig snarked. "I'd hate to have to vote in a new Prez."

"Hey, if he's gonna sneak the bike out behind our backs, I'll feel a lot better knowing he can handle it." Jax replied.

The conversation quickly came to a halt as the group saw a large black SUV pull into the clearing and watched as the driver parked it under a thicket of shady elm trees. As the two men exited their vehicle, Jax crossed his arms over his chest as they approached and waited for his VP to make the introductions.

Nate Meineke, a stoop-shouldered elderly man with rapidly thinning hair, was wearing a pair of old Army surplus cargo pants, combat boots, and a faded olive green wife beater.

"I really appreciate you making this accommodation. I knew Piney for many years. He was a good friend and I knew how much he loved his Club and his brothers. It's good to see younger generations honoring old friendships." Nate said with humility.

Jax nodded. "You did Piney a solid back in 'Nam. SAMCRO feels such debts should be repaid."

Shaking hands with the man, Jax noted that he seemed to be a little tense. But it was the attitude of the young man behind him that sent alarm bells ringing in his head.

Russell Meineke's entire demeanor seemed combative and aggressive, the look on his face reading as if the whole situation was a massive inconvenience for him. Considering the sensitive nature of their business, the Sons didn't deal with just anyone and it was clearly evident by the man's attitude that he had no appreciation of that fact.

Walking around to the back of the van, Opie opened the double doors and revealed a half dozen large crates.

"Shit!" Russell breathed. "That's an awful lot of crates to hold our six AKs."

Opie, who like Jax had sensed something peculiar with the young man, did very little to hide rolling his eyes. "They're not all AKs and they're certainly not yours. _Yet_." He advised. "This crate here holds what you want." He made quick work of opening it to reveal the guns.

"I thought you guys only ran AKs, Glocks and shit." Russell commented.

"We're a full service organization." Jax said grimly. "If we can't get it, it can't be gotten. _Anywhere_."

"So what kind of merch are you guys running?" Russell said with a calculating look in his eyes. "Maybe we can do some more business in the future."

"These?" Opie asked and Russell nodded. "This shipment is a special order—a couple of RPG's, a fifty caliber machine gun and some other shit you wouldn't be interested in. Nate said you guys were mainly into war games, right?"

"Yeah, that's right." Russell said as he rubbed his chin. "Maybe we better test your shit out. Make sure it works." Taking one of the AKs offered to him by Opie, he started testing out the hardware on a copse of trees.

Standing out of the way of gunfire, the Sons watched as Nate and Russell tested all six of the AK-47s. Afterward, Nate had walked towards Opie and Jax as they waited by the cargo van with Tig at their side. Shaking their hands and thanking them profusely, Nate motioned to Russell to pay Jax the agreed upon amount of $18K for the hardware, which was less than half of what Sons normally charged.

Slapping an envelope into Jax's hand, Russell turned his back and headed towards his SUV. But the moment the envelope hit his palm, Jax could tell that it was light by at least eight grand.

"Hey, this is a little light."

Standing at the back of his cage, Russell's stance telegraphed his intent. His legs slightly apart, braced and ready for action, his shoulders set with his right hand reaching into his army flak jacket, Jax realized a second too late that the little shit was about to open fire.

Tig, however, was a lot quicker on the uptake.

As the nine-millimeter handgun in Russell Meineke's possession let loose a barrage of bullets aimed in his direction, all Jax could remember as he pulled out his Glock was being knocked to ground by the force of his SAA's tackle. Hearing his brothers yelling as they returned fire, the last thing Jax remembered seeing before his head smashed into the hard ground was the look of astonishment on Russell's face.

And the perfect bullet hole in the center of his forehead as his body was slammed against the SUV and then slid down to the ground.

* * *

Dazed for less than a minute, Jax felt the heavy weight of a body lying across his legs.

"Oh, shit!" He gasped as he angled his head and saw Tig, blood seeping from multiple gunshot wounds to the head, shoulder, and lower body.

Moving quickly, Jax ignored the pain in his head while trying to help Chibs as the former British Army medic tried to assess the damage. "Shyte, brutha. He's hurt bad. Get me the kit, quick!"

Staggering to his feet, the SAMCRO Prez climbed into the cargo van to retrieve the large first aid kit his old lady had insisted outfitting each of the Club's vans with in case of emergencies. Holstering his weapon, Opie ran to the other side of the SUV to check on Nate Meineke. The old man was splayed on his back, his eyes wide open and unseeing, his life's blood pooling around him as it pumped out of the wound in his throat.

Jumping out of the van with the kit, Jax crouched down next to Chibs. "How bad?"

Chibs was tearing through the kit. "Bad. I need to stop at least some of the bleedin'." Finally finding a tourniquet, the Scottish-born biker worked quickly to fasten it on the SAA's right leg, which was gushing blood. "The little fucker got him good. It looks like he nicked the femoral artery. I can't find no exit wounds in the shoulder or hip and the shot he took to the head grazed him pretty good. Jackie boy, I just don't have the 'no-how to stop him from bleedin' out. We hafta get him to St. Thomas ASAP."

"Shit! Ope!" Jax called out. "What's that shithead's status?"

Opie ran back to his brothers. "Dead. They both are. I think Tig took the kid out and Nate didn't even have a chance to pull his weapon. I don't think he knew his piece of shit son was gonna try to kill us." Dropping to his knees next to Jax, Opie swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the gray unconscious face of his brother. "How's Tig?"

"Not good." Jax replied bleakly. "Call Hap and tell him to haul ass over here with a couple of brothers and a van. Then help me unload the cargo."

While Chibs continued to render first-aid, bandaging Tig's wounds to the best of his ability, Opie and Jax worked to unload the van before loading Tig inside.

"A'ight. Let's get him to St. Thomas." Jax ordered.

"How are you gonna explain—" Opie started.

Jax was shaking his head. "No clue. I'll figure something out on the way. You stay here with the merch and wait for Happy. Have him clean up this shitty mess and then get the load back to the warehouse. While you're waiting for Hap, get in touch with Cacuzza and let him know that we have to postpone the transfer. Once everything is back under control, meet us at the hospital." Jax ran down Opie's to-do list as he readied himself on his bike.

"Be safe!" Opie yelled as the cargo van and Jax tore out of the clearing and burned rubber as they raced back to Charming.

* * *

Now sitting in the hospital waiting for word on Tig's condition, Jax was feeling the weight of several issues pressing down on him. Anxious to hear that his brother was going to survive, Jax tried to occupy his mind by trying to come up with a plausible story to feed Sheriff Eli Roosevelt when he finally made his presence known. In the interim, Jax had tasked his Intelligence Officer with digging into the Meinekes background, while the Unholy One took care of getting rid of the bodies. It was obvious now that the Meinekes had a hidden agenda and Jax needed to know what it might be in order to prepare for the inevitable retaliation.

Having received a call from Juice that both he and Happy were on their way into St. Thomas, Jax left Filthy Phil and a couple of Prospects to watch over his mother and old lady who had been sitting vigil with him. Gathering the rest of SAMCRO, Jax appropriated the chapel on the main floor in order for Juice and Happy to bring the Club up to speed on their current clusterfuck.

"You're not gonna believe this shit," Juice started. "But it looks like our two gat-stealing douche bags were part of a group of so-called Nationalists looking to overthrow the American government."

"Nationalists? Isn't that jus' another word for whack-job idjits with too much free time on their hands? You've got to be fuckin' kidding, brutha." Chibs groused.

"I kid you not. Although I do believe they prefer the term 'Freedom Fighters'." Juice responded.

"How did you find this shit out?" Clay asked.

"Apparently, Chibs is not too far off the mark in his assessment. These guys were idiots. It took me all of three minutes to hack into Russell's e-mail accounts using his cell phone as a starting point." Juice started explaining. "It's a pretty small group, about 15 to 20 active members. Most, not surprisingly, have served time for tax evasion, making terroristic threats against government agencies such as the ATF and FBI, possession of bomb making materials, etc. One member, Frank Cison appears to be the leader of the group. I pulled his military record and it turns out that he and Nate did a tour of duty with Piney."

Opie shook his head wearily. "Shit! From the e-mails you managed to hack into, was Pop or the Club mentioned in any way? Anything that might connect us to their disappearance?"

"Nope. We're completely clear on that front." Juice assured him.

"Twenty people?" Jax asked perplexed. "That's not enough bodies for a proper Friday night after-Church party, never mind a revolution."

"Trust me, they had a bigger picture in mind and part of it was to run their little operation out of Mexico, if you can believe that shit." Juice replied.

"As if a bunch of white rednecks in a Latin American country trying to blow shit up would go unnoticed." Happy remarked sarcastically.

"Like I said, not too smart." The Intel Officer continued. "To keep off the grid, the plan was for each group to travel in pairs until they met up at their final destination. In order to be accepted into the group, however, each pair had to bring to the table at least half a dozen automatic weapons to jump start the revolution and money to fund the cause."

Opie rubbed his hand over his beard. "And that's where we came in. Jax, I'm—"

"Don't start again with that shit, Ope." Jax cut him off. "Even if we had done a deep background check on these guys, I doubt we would have access to this kind of Intel. It was a small order, nothing that raised any red flags and we took Nate Meineke at his word that he needed the AKs for war games in the woods. He saved your old man at Khe Sanh and played that card for an in. Everything seemed legit, so if this was anyone's fault, it's mine."

Jax wanted to slap himself for the oversight. Even though Jax believed that their connection to this group of "freedom fighters" was a well-hidden secret, if he had tasked Juice to do proper due diligence into the Meinekes, it was still possible they would have found something to warn the Club off the deal.

"My gut was burning, telling me that Russell was just a little too interested in the rest of our cargo." Jax continued. "I still think the plan was to shortchange us on the pre-agreed price, but when he saw our merch—"

"He must have thought he hit the fuckin' jackpot." Opie growled. "The AKs are nothing compared to the actual fire power they could bring to their cause by jacking our merch."

"That's it for the bad news." Juice interrupted. "Now for some good news. Each group was supposed to show up ready for transport across the border through Texas two days from now, but there's only a small and precise window of opportunity. Anyone not at the rendezvous point at the appointed time is considered a loss. Once in Mexico, they were going to liaise with other splinter groups and morph into this giant supergroup, expanding their base, so the Meinekes not showing up—" Juice paused.

"Would be chalked up to bad timing on their part. The rest of the group will think that they either changed their minds, got busted, or just plain fell off the radar." Half-Sack grinned.

Juice nodded. "It would be too risky to come looking for the Meinekes. And the Meinekes pretty much cleaned up after themselves. Nobody in Modesto is gonna suspect foul play or file a missing persons report."

"How do ya figure, Juicy?" Chibs asked.

"Nate and Russell have no family left in Modesto. Their last living relative was Nate's wife, who died of cancer about six months ago. They sold all of the property they had—their home, cars, the wife's jewelry—and my contact at San Joaquin Savings & Loan tells me they both cleared out their combined bank accounts to the tune of $325K, which was probably their contribution to the cause." Juice grinned as he looked at Happy. "You wanna tell 'em?"

"Why the fuck not?" Happy smiled almost evilly. "I found a large duffel bag in the back of their cage containing at least $300K in hundred dollar bills."

A chorus of hoots and laughter went off in the chapel as Jax stared at Happy dumbfounded. "Are you shitting me?" He exclaimed.

"I shit you not, my brother." Happy grinned. "Apparently, the next stop after jacking our guns was Texas. They had army fatigues and supplies, camping equipment, food rations, the works. They were getting the hell out of dodge and quick."

"They had a deadline to meet. Russell must have figured it would be a lot easier and quicker just taking our shit than actually placing an order. He obviously had no idea who he was messing with." Bobby chimed in. "Fucking shithead was not only crazy, but stupid."

"Yep, a classic, yet deadly combo." Clay smirked.

"But no match for crazy and smart." Happy added. "If not for Tig, we prolly wouda been burying all of you."

"That kid was just plain stupid." Jax replied strongly, knowing he owed Tig Trager his life, if he survived. "Russell Meineke didn't stand a chance against crazy."

* * *

And so for the last eight hours, Jax and his brothers had been waiting to hear whether or not their brother would live or die. During the long wait for Tig to come out of surgery, Jax had contacted Lorca, the Tacoma VP and tasked him to track down Tig's estranged wife, Colleen and their two daughters. As far as he knew, they were Tig's only family and they had the right to know about his current condition.

Soon after being discharged from the Marines, after serving two tours in Honduras and the Gulf back in the mid-80s, Tig had patched into SAMTAC, living with his old lady and two daughters in Tacoma. However, after JT died, Clay Morrow had assumed the Presidency and asked JT's SAA, Big Otto Delaney to be his VP. Needing to fill the now-vacant SAA position, Big Otto recommended bringing Tig down from SAMTAC. With all the losses SAMCRO had suffered as a result of ongoing feuds with other MCs, the Club desperately needed an infusion of new blood at the table.

Having come to know Tig from his many trips to the Tacoma charter and knowing something of his history, Clay knew that the talented, tough-minded and fiercely driven younger man would be an asset to SAMCRO. His expertise, garnered from his Marine training, would make him an excellent protector and enforcer, especially with the Club involved in a war with Mayans, which would ultimately last two years before the two MCs would be able to broker a deal for an uneasy peace.

Tig had considered it an honor to be asked by the National President to make the leap to the mother charter. Unfortunately, with Bloody '92 raging on, Tig figured that, for the short term, it would be best for his family to remain in Tacoma. Conflicts always ran their course and eventually died down and in the interim, it would give him the chance to settle down and find a home for his family. Tig Trager had been under the impression that Colleen, along with his daughters, would jump at the chance to move to Charming.

However, his old lady felt otherwise. Having been humiliated one too many times by Tig's extramarital escapades, Colleen Trager took her daughter on an "extended visit" to her parents in Oregon and decided to stay there. She had no intention of relocating her children to what she referred to as "some backwater sleepy town only to be forced to put up with Tig's shit." Although never asking her husband for a divorce, and Tig never offering one, Colleen had pretty much cut ties with her old man and his Club. As a result, Tig saw his girls only once or twice a year at best while they were growing up.

Clay, who probably knew more about Tig's family history than most of his brothers, advised Jax that it was unlikely that any of his family would show up, with the possible exception of his oldest Dawn, who had recently shown her face in Charming about 18 months ago.

Unfortunately, Clay had been right. Only a couple of hours later, Jax heard from Lorca, who had managed to track down Colleen through one of SAMTAC's old ladies she still kept in touch with. Colleen, while sorry to hear about her old man's condition, seemed uninterested in seeing her estranged husband before he died. It saddened Jax to realize that the only family willing to stay by Tig's side during what could be his final hours was SAMCRO.

With Tig still not out of surgery as late evening approached, Jax walked over to his old lady and pulled her out of her chair.

"I'm having Clay take you and Gemma home." Jax announced as he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly. Sensing an argument coming out of her mouth, he continued. "I want my family safe and under wraps, okay? Besides, it's been a long day for you."

Cupping his face, Jolene pulled him in for a tender kiss. She knew he was right. With her mornings starting at 5:30, it had been a long day and Neeta needed to be relieved, but Jolene didn't feel ready to leave his side. Although Jax had refused to discuss the details of what had transpired while they were still in the hospital, it didn't take a genius to figure out that, with his SAA fighting for his life, Jax had been the shooter's intended target.

"When are you coming home?" She asked quietly.

Jax shook his head. "Not for a while. Not until I know for sure how he's doing."

"Okay," Jolene nodded, equally grateful and saddened that Tig had to put his own life on the line to protect her old man. "Just promise me you're going to keep a low profile."

"Jo, I'm surrounded by my Club. I'll be fine." Jax assured her.

"I know, but the Club can't protect you from law enforcement." Jolene replied earnestly. _If he gets arrested, who's going to protect him in County_?

"I'm not worried about that, babe, and you shouldn't be either. I'll be fine, I promise." He flashed her his most confident grin.

Jolene practically rolled her eyes, prompting Jax to pull her in for a deeper, harder kiss.

"Call me as soon as you hear something." Jolene said as she pulled away.

"Get some sleep." Jax demanded, good-naturedly.

Jolene shook her head. "Not without you. Not tonight."

Jax watched as his old lady left with her father and his mother. Today had been a close call for him, he knew it. It wasn't the first and most definitely wouldn't be his last. He'd give anything to be able to see his kids tonight, hugging them close before putting them to bed, but knowing that Tig could die without ever seeing his family again was breaking his heart.

 _I can't leave him here to die alone_ , Jax thought.

But his old lady did have a point. _I need to keep my ass on the move and out of the path of the fuckin' Sheriff._

* * *

The outcome did not look good for Tig Trager. Dr. McNamara, the surgeon who had performed multiple surgeries on Tig along with his surgical team, had finally entered the waiting room to relay the extent of Tig's injuries.

With the entire SAMCRO inner circle standing with their President, the doctor gave them some hard truths. "We almost lost him, _several_ times, but he's a strong man. The bullet to the head only grazed him, but the wound was deep. Fortunately, it did not damage the brain. And that's the good news." The exhausted-looking doctor advised after the nearly ten-hour operation. "Mr. Trager sustained severe internal damage. The shot to the shoulder was quite nasty and did a lot of damage to the cartilage. The hip shot shattered the bone and we had a difficult time piecing that together. Should he recover, he will have a permanent barometer to let him know when the weather is about to change. The worst, however, was the bullet we removed from his thigh."

"Da one tha' nicked his femoral artery." Chibs spoke up.

"Correct." The doctor nodded. "He lost a massive amount of blood and we couldn't increase his blood volume fast enough. His blood pressure became critically low and he suffered a heart attack."

"Oh, shit." Opie said softly.

"We stopped the bleeding and, because of his rare blood-type, were finally able to replace his blood volume by using a saline solution. I can't sugarcoat it. He's a very sick man and he's in a coma. He's been installed in a private room in ICU." Sighing as he ran his hand through his platinum gray hair, Dr. McNamara grimaced. "The next 12 hours are critical."

"And if he makes it through that?" Jax asked quietly.

"We'll know more in the morning. The sooner he wakes up, the better his prognosis." Dr. McNamara paused with a sigh, then continued. "If he has any family, I suggest you get them here as soon as possible." Turning away from the suddenly quiet group, the doctor headed towards the cafeteria to get himself a much needed meal.

Now it was just a matter of waiting to see if Tig would survive the night.

After the briefing on the Meineke situation, Jax had put himself to the task of coming up with a scenario to explain the shooting. It was fortunate that a bust of a large meth lab in Pope had kept the Sanwa Sheriffs too busy to interrogate any Club members regarding the shooting, but they were living on borrowed time. It would only be a matter of time before Sheriff Eli Roosevelt reared his ugly head.

Until he knew for sure whether or not his brother was going to pull through, Jax needed to stay clear of the Sanwa Sheriff's cross hairs. With the shooters already dead, the top priority was keeping the Club protected.

Because as Tig would tell his brothers himself, _The Club always comes first_.


	2. Next of Kin

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The fire-engine red 1978 Buick Electra 225 with white interior was hauling ass on the I-22 towards Charming, finally in the home stretch of what was normally a 13½ hour drive from Seattle. The driver prayed that the vintage car would hold up until they reached their destination, hopefully in one piece.

It was a matter of life and death.

At the thought of not making it in time, Fawn Trager stomped on the gas pedal with her four-inch black suede Valentino boots. In spite of the sudden trail of tears on her cheeks, which she quickly swiped away, Fawn was still having a difficult time accepting the reality her mother had dumped on her like a bucket of ice water earlier that afternoon over the phone.

_Honey, your Dad's in a bad way._

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled hearing her mother's words.

At the time, Fawn had been working on the hair of Seattle's top female divorce attorney, one of her most important—if not difficult—clients. Standing nearly frozen behind the chair, with a sheet of aluminum foil in one hand and a brush loaded with Sunrise Blossom 201 for a root touch up in the other, Fawn barely stopped herself from falling. She did, however, drop her cell phone, which skidded across the salon floor, prompting her assistant Adrienne to go flailing on her knees after it.

Fawn never took personal calls when she was working on a client. When someone was in her chair, they were her first and only priority. But when Adrienne said that Colleen Trager was on the phone and that it was urgent, she had to take the call.

Grumbling under her breath, Fawn rolled her eyes, apologizing profusely to her client, but continued working. The woman in her chair had rescheduled several appointments in order to come in at the last minute when she learned that Fawn had an unexpected opening. She wasn't about to keep Ms. High-Powered Attorney waiting while her mother threw yet another fit because Fawn had no plans on joining her and Dawn in Oregon for an upcoming mother-daughter bonding weekend.

She only wished it had been something so trivial.

Ten minutes after that call, quickly running off instructions to her assistant on what she needed to do to finish working on her client, Fawn ran out of _Flip It_ , a prestigious high-end salon, in order to rush home, pack a bag, and book the next flight into Oakland International Airport.

Even though rain seemed to be an hourly occurrence in Seattle, Fawn took the fact that she had managed to get soaked from head to toe before making it to her car half a block away as a bad omen. A reminder that just when you thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, life—the universe, karma, the flying spaghetti monster—always had just one more trick up its sleeve to fuck you over with. With her luck, the weather would probably be just one of the many obstacles she would have to overcome before she was allowed to make peace with her asshole father.

Colleen—the go-to gal if you wanted your shortcomings thrown in your face—always warned Fawn that her stubborn pride would be her downfall. And if Fawn failed to make it to Charming in time to see Tig Trager while he was still alive, she would end up proving her mother right.

And Fawn would never be able to forgive herself for that.

* * *

Seattle had endured a wetter winter than normal and, with the coming of spring, its residents were ready to once again see the sun. Mother Nature, apparently, had one more whopper of a storm to throw their way before that would happen. There was a current storm front over Washington, moving steadily towards the Seattle-Tacoma area. By the time Fawn had changed and packed a bag, the downpour had become torrential with weather forecasts predicting monsoon-like rainfall for the next 24 to 48 hours. As she soon found out, booking a flight was impossible as thousands of would-be travelers found themselves stranded with flights all along the Pacific Northwest coast cancelled. Every agent she spoke to told her she would just have to wait out the storm. Even though she knew very little about her father's condition, the very thought of getting there one minute too late spurred her to do whatever was necessary to get herself to Charming.

With the infamous and stubborn Trager pride her mother was always warning her about kicking in, Fawn threw her hastily packed duffel bag into the trunk before peeling rubber as she streaked out of her apartment building's underground garage. Stopping only to gas up her vintage tank at the nearest station, she headed south in the middle of the raging storm.

As her windshield wipers worked double-time, flicking back and forth in a staccato beat, the 28-year old woman relived the conversation she had in its entirety with her mother.

" _Honey, your Dad's in a bad way."_

" _Okay, Mom, this is Dad we're talking about," Fawn grumbled as she neatly folded the aluminum foil into three before sectioning off another piece of hair. "You have to be more specific."_

_Colleen let out a deep sigh. "I just got a call from Lorca, the VP of the Tacoma charter. Your father's been shot, baby."_

_And that's when Fawn had dropped her brand new $500 smart phone onto the Italian marble floor of the salon. Her assistant, after nearly tripping all over herself to retrieve it, got confirmation of the seriousness of the call as she caught sight Fawn's suddenly pale face. Quickly nudging her out of the way, Adrienne said, "I can finish Ms. Upton. You go ahead and take it in the back."_

_Like a zombie, Fawn managed to make her way to the large employee lounge. Collapsing into one of the sleek and stylish white leather armchairs, she swallowed the lump in her throat._

" _What happened?"_

" _I don't know. Lorca said he didn't have any details—and I don't believe that shit for one minute—but he said that we should get to Charming as soon as possible." Colleen replied, her voice steady and calm._

_Running a trembling hand through her hair, Fawn was shaken to her core. Holding back her tears, she took a deep breath. "Okay, um, I'm gonna book my ticket from here and yours out of Oregon. We'll meet up in Oakland and drive the rest of—"_

" _No, honey," Colleen interrupted. "I'm not going."_

_Still in shock, it took Fawn's brain almost half a minute to register what her mother had said. "What the fuck do you mean you're not going?!" Her tone hardened as her legendary temper began to blaze._

" _Don't take that tone with me! You know that whatever relationship Alex and I had died years ago. I don't wish him ill, but Fawn, he chose to live this life and I gave him up for dead way before now. We already said our good-byes. I mourned him and moved on. I really don't see the point of going through all of that grief again. And to be honest, I don't see why you would either. I just thought you had the right to know."_

_Fawn stared disbelievingly at her phone. "You are a piece of work, Mom. Whatever 'daddy issues' I may have going on, I'm willing to forgive and forget because I still love the asshole and I want him to know it before it's too late. Considering you're still married to the man, I figured you would want him to know you still loved him, too."_

" _But I don't love him, Fawn. Shit! I don't mean to sound so heartless and I certainly don't want him to die, but just because we never sought a divorce doesn't mean there's still love there. I put in my time with that man and he tortured the shit out of me. You know this. After over 30 years and having to raise two children by myself, I'm entitled to something, like his military pensions. If we had ever gotten a divorce—"_

" _Holy shit! Am I hearing this right? Jesus, Mom! And people wonder where Dawn gets it from!" Fawn raged. "By the way, is Dawn at least going because I know you called her first?"_

" _No, she's not—I mean, I wasn't able to reach her. You know she changes cell phones like most men change underwear." Colleen replied hurriedly. "And there's no reason for you to say such hurtful things to me. I was the parent that was ALWAYS there for you. Don't you forget that."_

" _I gotta go, Mom." Fawn went to hang up, but Colleen continued._

" _From what Lorca told me, his prognosis isn't good. He's having surgery as we speak, but they're not even sure he'll pull through that, so running off half-cocked makes no sense right now." Colleen advised._

" _I appreciate the concern, Mom, but you worry about yourself and Dawn. I know what I have to do." Fawn responded._

After another few tense moments spent getting some unwanted advice from her mother, Fawn disconnected the call. Almost paralyzed with fear, grief, and rage, she sat still trying to dismiss her mother's callous attitude. Not for the first time in her life, Fawn was glad she took after Colleen only in looks.

Fawn suddenly realized that precious minutes were ticking away as she sat with her thumb up her ass fuming over her mother and older sister. Colleen could make whatever argument she wanted about writing Tig out of her life, but in the end, Fawn knew there was really only one choice for her to make.

Which was why, after driving like the devil was on her ass for ten straight hours, she was now pulling off the highway and into downtown Charming. However, one of the many problems of having so much time on her hands by herself was that Fawn was a thinker. Mulling over her childhood growing up with an absentee father who disappointed more often than not, Fawn Trager wasn't so sure now whether she was indeed ready to forgive her father on what could possibly be his deathbed. She was even less sure about what she would do if he did survive.

 _Maybe I'll just do us both a favor and put the bastard out of his fuckin' misery by just killing him my own damn self_.

* * *

Having swung into a parking spot in St. Thomas' lot, ever grateful for the GPS that helped guide her way, Fawn grabbed her brown leather hobo bag off the passenger seat and, leaving the windows slightly ajar, slammed the door of her car. She could feel a tension headache coming on as the last twenty minutes of her journey had her anxieties riding high.

"Please, please don't let me be too late." She whispered to herself as she rushed through the automatic door leading into the hospital lobby.

In her haste to get on the road, Fawn had neglected to get a contact name and number for someone to meet up with at the hospital from her mother. She had left several messages for Colleen, all of which went unreturned, prompting Fawn to feel a slight twinge of guilt that maybe she had been too harsh on her mother. Checking her phone again, she cursed herself. Even though the touch screen was cracked after its rude introduction to the floor of the salon, it was still working, but the battery was dead. Hoping that she remembered to pack her charger, Fawn continued towards her destination.

Despite driving through several storm fronts, the last of the rain stopping somewhere outside Oakland, Fawn made considerably good time from Seattle through Oregon, most of NorCal, and into Charming. She had only stopped twice for gas, bathroom breaks and to stretch her long legs.

Now, striding towards the front desk at ten o'clock in the evening, she noticed that the small hospital was surprisingly busy for that time of the night. The disinterested security guard, upon hearing Fawn's inquiry, quickly tapped her father's name into a computer and directed her to the third floor surgical unit.

It could have been just her nervous anticipation, but before the elevator doors fully opened on the third floor, Fawn had confirmation that she was in the right place. The strong scent of leather mixed with cigarettes, weed, and spicy cologne assailed her nostrils before her bright blue eyes could register the sight before her. A sea of black leather kuttes donning a creepy-looking reaper on the back greeted her as she took in the crowd of rough and hard-looking men sprawled in chairs and leaning against the walls of the corridor leading to the surgical suite.

Seeing a woman exit the elevator, a large, curly-headed behemoth nearly swallowed his tongue. "Shit," Filthy Phil breathed. "Who the fuck is that and where has she been all my life?"

Looking up, his companion's eyes doubled in size. "Shit, I don't know, but I'm sure as shit gonna find out."

Tiki Munson grinned as he started to make his way over to intercept the woman heading over to the Nurse's Station.

At first, Fawn's attempts to get the attention of the male nurse shooting the shit with an orderly were polite. Then she snapped. "Excuse me, but do I have to be bleeding out my ass to get some fuckin' help around here, please?"

Turning around to give the irritated voice a piece of his mind for her rudeness, the nurse suddenly stammered as he took in the sight before him. "Uh, how can I help you, Miss?" He croaked.

"You can start by telling me where I can find my father. The name's Alexander Trager."

Tiki was sure he had fallen in love at first sight with the pissed off woman as she called out the nurse that had been actively ignoring her. That is, until he heard who she was looking for. With his semi-boner quickly deflating, Tiki put his hormones in check. "Hey, your Dad's in ICU. His doc just got back from checking on him and is giving the Prez an update. I can show you the way."

Looking over her shoulder at a tall, young and unexpectedly cute biker, she nodded. "Well, put a fire under it, stud. I don't have all damn night."

With raised eyebrows, Tiki nodded. "This way."

With several members overhearing the brisk exchange, the group of men parted like the Red Sea as Tiki headed down the hall, with Fawn trailing in his wake.

* * *

Opie was standing patiently outside the waiting room as Jax wrapped up his conversation with Dr. McNamara. Regardless of what Jax had to say about the situation, Opie was still feeling a measure of guilt, considering himself solely responsible for putting Tig on death's door and quite possibly the Club in the Sheriff's crosshairs. Karma was indeed a bitch as Opie now found himself in a similar predicament as Tig had three years ago, for which Opie had given his brother a lot of shit.

It had taken Opie a while to finally come to terms with the loss of his wife. It had taken him even longer to fully comprehend that Tig really wasn't the one to blame. Even though losing Donna had been the single greatest blow he had ever been on the receiving end of, he had been wrong and selfish to let his grief control him the way it had. He had made some seriously fucked up choices, hurt the wrong people, and had put himself in danger of losing what was left of his family to his in-laws. The prospect of losing custody of his kids had been the wake up call Opie needed.

With the help of his SAMCRO family, Opie had managed to hold on to his children and make his peace with Tig. Although healed, their relationship would probably never be the same again, but in spite of that, Tig was still his brother and he wanted him to die no more than he would any of his brothers. After all, the SAA had done his duty by protecting his President and for that alone, Opie would be forever grateful. Because Tig's first instinct had been to jump in front of a bullet as he got off a couple of kill shots of his own, Opie had been spared the heartbreaking task of letting his sister from another mister know that her old man was dead.

_But none of this would be an issue if only I hadn't brought this deal to the Club._

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Opie spotted Tiki turning the corner and heading in his direction, an Amazonian beauty walking by his side.

And that was the moment that SAMCRO's gentle giant got his first full load of Fawn, spawn of Trager.

* * *

 _Damn!_ Was Opie's first thought as his eyes raked over the beauty walking down the hallway towards him. Completely ignoring the young patch at her side, Opie wondered who the hell the sexy woman was. She didn't look at all familiar and he knew he would have a hard time forgetting ever meeting her before.

 _Tall_ , Opie thought as his eyes traveled up the length of her body _._ Statuesque seemed to be the better word to describe her, Opie decided as he considered her long, slender limbs encased in four-inch black suede stiletto boots and tight low-riding skinny jeans. He fought the smirk threatening to spread over his face because he knew, just judging by the front view, that those jeans were painted on what had to be a supremely fine ass.

Wearing two wife-beaters—black layered over white and covering a nice-sized rack—both tanks stopped barely an inch above the waistband of her jeans, flashing not only a hint of creamy white skin, but also what looked like a tattoo of a thorny vine of roses wrapped around her midsection and creeping up the center of her chest, ending in a beautiful and vibrant red flower decorating the base of her throat.

But it was her beautiful heart-shaped face that had Opie riveted to the spot. She was absolutely stunning. With flawless skin like cream and brows arched to perfection, Opie looked into probably the most fiercely striking blue eyes he had ever seen.

 _A man could drown in those mesmerizing pools_. _And that hair_.

Long and wildly wavy dark red hair framed her face and trailed down her back and over her shoulders in stark relief against the half-sleeve tattoo on her right arm, which also sported a heavy twisted sterling silver bracelet.

Completely devoid of make-up, except for what might have been a hint of pale pink lip gloss, the woman was almost perfect. The angry, petulant and pissed off expression on her face did very little to mar that beauty. And it failed to masquerade the twinge of fear in her eyes, Opie noted more than just slightly intrigued, or the fact that she had obviously been crying recently.

* * *

Even though the life of one of their brother's was hanging by a tenuous thread, men will be men and will ultimately act like dogs. After a long, stressful day, with a fine-looking woman suddenly thrust into their midst, it should have come as no surprise that the Sons wasted no time in acting like sailors on shore leave by making their appreciation of the female form known.

By the time she was within striking distance of the waiting room, Fawn felt as if the assembled bikers had run a train on her. With all of her bottled up worry and anxiety over her father's condition taking its toll, Fawn was quickly losing her patience. Having to listen as she walked down several corridors leading from the elevator bank while her physical attributes were discussed, catalogued, and graded made her feel like she was up for auction.

So when she finally reached the waiting room, Fawn was pretty much fed up. Her mood only worsened when she came face-to-face with the man who, in her mind, had been the worst offender. None too happy that he had done very little to hide the fact that he had practically stripped her down to her birthday suit, Fawn was reluctant to admit that she unknowingly had been guilty of the same thing.

 _Damn, he's a big fella_ , Fawn thought appreciatively _. Just like I like 'em._

Even from a distance, Fawn could tell that the man holding up the wall was a freaking giant. With broad shoulders straining his leather jacket layered with his SOA kutte, steel-toed biker boots, and his long legs wrapped in black jeans, he looked like an unmovable mountain she wouldn't mind climbing.

He was scruffy, the lower half of his face covered in a beard and mustache, but handsome. Not pretty boy handsome, but definitely manly hot. He had sad-looking brilliant green eyes under heavy dark brows and a mop of long reddish brown hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Coming to a stop in front of the giant guarding the door leading into the waiting room, she was surprised that she still had to look up at the biker. Fawn crossed her arms, her hobo bag hanging off her shoulder and resting on a cocked hip. She had been away from the MC world and out of her father's sphere of influence for a long time, so it would stand to reason that she should be forgiven for her complete disregard for the proper protocol when dealing with outlaw bikers.

Colleen, knowing that her daughter was adamant about going to Charming in spite of her warnings, had tried to give her some advice regarding the ass-backwards world she was about to enter.

 _First and foremost_ , Colleen advised, _don't lose your shit or get lippy because the women's liberation movement has yet to infiltrate the biker world_.

Unfortunately, Fawn forgot that little nugget of Intel.

Fed up with the sexual innuendo and outright offers to have her world rocked by a clan of horny bikers, combined with her ten-hour nightmare drive from Seattle, Fawn took out all of her frustration, anger and aggression on the patch standing right in front of her.

Her voice, although soft and musical, had a hard tone that did not go unnoticed by the SAMCRO VP. "Now that I've been stripped naked and thoroughly mind-fucked, you wanna move out of my damn way?"

Pushing up from against the wall, Opie rose up to his impressive height of 6'6 and stepped into the personal space of the woman who was defiantly looking up at him.

Just a second too late, Fawn realized that her attitude wasn't exactly biker-friendly.

"I don't know who you are, little girl, but you need to watch your mouth." The words, simply stated, with a slight heated edge, was enough to set her straight.

A sudden and deafening silence spread throughout the hallway as conversations came to a halt, everyone's attention drawn to the big man's growled statement. Fawn swallowed her rage back, knowing that she had pushed the envelope and gave a tacit nod to acknowledge that she had stepped out of line.

"Good." Opie nodded. "Now who the fuck are you?"

Before she could answer, Tiki interjected. "She's Tig's kid, bro."

 _Fawn Trager?_ Opie was surprised to say the least.

Having briefly met her older sister about a year ago, he never would have guessed that the tall, lean, red-haired beauty came from the same gene pool. But as he focused his attention on her pretty face again, it hit him. Her big, bright blue eyes should have been a dead giveaway as they were probably the only identifying trait connecting her to her old man.

Before Opie could respond, the door of the waiting room opened and Jax exited with Dr. McNamara.

Turning her back on Opie, Fawn stepped forward and introduced herself. "I'm Fawn Trager. Are you my father's doctor?"

Catching Jax's eye, Opie nodded at his brother's unspoken question, as Fawn paid them no mind, her attention fixed on the man in the long white lab coat.

The doctor quickly repeated his prognosis regarding Tig's condition. "Visiting hours are over, but considering the circumstances, I can let you in to see your father briefly. ICU visiting hours begin at 8:00 a.m., but for now, I'm restricting access to the patient only to you and Mr. Teller. Come. I'll take you to him now."

Still reeling from the possibly grim outcome her father was facing, Fawn barely caught one word out of every ten spoken by the doctor as her eyes suddenly misted over. Blinking back her tears, she nodded resolutely. There was no way she would allow herself to break down in front of all of these men.

"I'll go with you." Jax offered. Looking over her shoulder, she noted the handsome blond biker standing next to the fuckin' ginormous Redwood tree that had just taken a chunk out of her ass. "I'm Jax Teller." He held out a hand.

 _Mr. President_ , she thought wryly as she reached for his hand and shook it. Seeing something akin to sympathy in his eyes, Fawn finally released the deep breath she was holding on to. At least Jax Teller had the decency to address her while looking her in the eye. Following the doctor down the corridor towards ICU with the gentlemanly SAMCRO President at her side, Fawn took a quick look back at the biker whose name she was yet to learn.

And found that he was still watching her.

* * *

Fawn was unprepared as she walked into her father's private room in the ICU ward. Any idea of shooting him herself left her completely as her eyes landed on the outstretched body lying on the hospital bed and connected to about half a dozen machines. One of them, attached to the tube down his throat, was helping him breathe.

"Damn it, Dad." Fawn shuddered as she stealthily thumbed away the tear running down her cheek. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she felt Jax's hands on her shoulders as he gently guided her into the chair next to her father's bed. Swallowing her tears, Fawn looked up at the sympathetic biker and gave him a tight smile. "Thank you." Jax nodded slightly, stepping back in order to give Fawn her space.

Fawn reached out to rest her hand on top of her father's rough and calloused one, almost unrecognizable to her without his signature Reaper rings. Tig had always seemed larger than life to her and to suddenly have his mortality shoved in her face proved too much to bear. Emotionally exhausted, Fawn finally allowed her tears to roll silently down her face as her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

"He's a tough bastard, you know." Jax said, his voice gravelly with emotion. "I wouldn't give up on your old man just yet."

Fawn barely managed to nod. Intertwining her fingers with his, Fawn gave Tig's hand a light squeeze. Leaning forward in her chair, she spoke quietly into his ear, hoping that he would be able to hear her.

"You can't leave me yet, Dad. You owe me—" Fawn's voice broke. "You owe me the chance to get some shit off my chest and I owe you the chance to be my father again, so none of this shit about checking out yet, okay?" Standing up, Fawn bent over the bed and placed a kiss on his right cheek, practically the only part of his head not covered in bandages.

Stepping forward, Jax took a moment to rest a hand on Tig's shoulder. "Hang in there, bro." He said. Wrapping an arm around Fawn's shoulders, Jax escorted her out of the room.

Once in the hall, she pulled away from Jax and leaned against the wall outside her father's room.

"You gonna hold up?"

Fawn swiped at the last of her tears angrily and straightened up. "Yeah. I am."

Jax nodded. "That's good. If there's anything I can do for you, just say the word."

Squaring her shoulders, Fawn folded her arms underneath her chest. "Okay, thanks. How about telling me what the fuck happened to my father?"

Jax's jaw instantly tightened. He didn't know Fawn Trager from a hole in the wall. Hell, he had no way of knowing, other than asking her for i.d., if she was who she said she was. Aside from a brief visit a while back from his oldest kid, no one had ever met any of Tig's family. Some didn't even know he had any.

Grabbing her by the elbow, Jax pulled her away from the flow of traffic of hospital staff as they went about their duties. Leading her to an empty room, he gestured for her to have a seat in the chair up against the wall.

Leaning against the bed, Jax crossed his arms. "Your father got shot."

Fawn nearly did a double-take. "Why, I am so glad that you are here to clear that up for me. I was so sure Dr. McNamara was trying to hide something, like maybe a botched facelift or something." She replied sarcastically. "I know we've just met, but I'm not an idiot."

"Never said you were." Jax responded.

"Then don't fucking treat me like one." Fawn said angrily. "What I want to know is who did it and why."

"That's not for you to know."

"Are you kidding me?" Fawn started, but Jax interrupted.

"No, I'm not." He said strongly. "I get that this might be a new experience for you, but I _really_ don't have the time to bring you up to speed on all the do's and don'ts. I know Tig and he's _not_ a stupid man, so I'm taking a giant leap of faith here and hoping that, as his daughter, you ain't stupid either. For your own protection, all you need to know is that shit went south and your father took care of business and defended his brothers."

"And now he gets to die because he _took care of business_." She retorted bitterly.

"He's not gonna die—"

"Really? Dr. McNamara doesn't seem to share your certainty. You know something he don't?"

"I know Tig Trager and he's a tough son of a bitch." Jax said as he crouched down in front of her to look her in the eyes. "I'm not giving up on him yet and neither are you. He needs you, he needs his family and, if you really love him, you're gonna help him out."

Fawn sat back and crossed her arms. "And how am I gonna do that?"

"Right now, you're Tig's only next of kin and once he regains consciousness, I need you to pull rank. The hospital can only do so much, but as his daughter you can prevent anyone from questioning him until we're ready for him to talk to the cops." Jax explained.

"Don't you mean _if_ he regains consciousness?" She muttered under her breath.

"I said what I meant, sweetheart." Jax smiled. "And in order for us to keep him clear of the Sheriff, you need to be with him round the clock. Law enforcement is going to be very interested in finding out what happened and if they do, it'll mean trouble for your father and I can't let that happen. I'm alive because of what he did. I have a way of getting him clear of any trouble, but I can't do that without your help. I don't usually put a lot of trust in outsiders, but I have to believe that as his daughter you want to see him stay alive and out of prison." Jax paused. "Or am I wrong here?"

Fawn glowered at him. "Of course I want to help him. I wouldn't have risked my neck getting here from Seattle in ten hours otherwise."

Jax quirked an eyebrow. "Ten hours, huh? I think I'm starting to see the resemblance between you and your old man. You're both crazy as shit." He grinned.

Fawn didn't know what it was about seeing that smile, but it was enough to lighten her heart for a moment, and give her hope that maybe her father would be alright after all.

"So what do we do now?" She countered.

Jax straightened up and pulled Fawn to her feet. "First, we get you settled in so you can get some rest. In the morning, we'll get you back here and we can talk some more. I've made arrangements to keep Tig under guard and safe overnight."

Fawn's eyes widened. "You think he's in danger?"

Jax shook his head. "Nope, but I'm not taking any chances. I'll have my VP take you to my house. My old lady will make sure to make you comfortable—"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather stay in a hotel." Fawn interrupted.

"Well, you see, that's not gonna happen." As Fawn's eyes narrowed and started to flash with anger, the SAMCRO President continued. "I owe it to my brother to keep his kid safe and I can't do that if you're in a hotel surrounded by strangers."

"Oh because you and I are such good old friends, right?" She snarked.

Folding his arms across his hard, muscled chest, Jax Teller made an imposing figure. Once again ignoring her mother's advice, she was in danger of annoying yet another biker, but Fawn was as stubborn as her old man and made a counter-offer.

"I can always stay at my dad's place."

Jax furrowed his brow. "At the Clubhouse? That might not be a bad idea. At least I know you'll be surrounded by SAMCRO."

"Uh, wait a minute, a clubhouse?" Fawn queried. _I ain't sleeping in no goddamn tree_.

"Yeah, we have dorms for Club members to crash in, but Tig practically lives there. I'm sure he'd rather have you stay in his room than in some hotel." Jax explained. "He has a house on the outskirts of town, but it's a little too isolated for you to be there by yourself."

"A house? Good, I'd rather stay there."

"It's not an option." Seeing the mutinous expression in Fawn's eyes, Jax continued. "Look, this is only temporary, but this is how it's gonna be. It's either my house or the Clubhouse. This ain't up for further discussion, so pick one, or I'll pick one for you."

 _Man, Mom sure wasn't kidding. Are women even allowed to vote in this town_?

Seeing the hard glint in his eyes, Fawn threw her hands up in surrender. "All right. Fine. I'll stay at the Clubhouse." At least, she hoped, she'd have a little privacy in a room by herself. She was in no mood to make nice with some rode-hard-and-put-up-wet old lady.

Walking out of the room together, Jax and Fawn returned to the waiting room, where Fawn was sure the number of Club members had doubled. "My VP's gonna take you over to the Clubhouse and get you settled in. I know some of my brothers are a bit on the rough side, but you won't have to worry about Ope. He'll treat you right."

Pulling Fawn with him into the crowd of brothers, Jax made a casual introduction of Fawn to everyone. Suddenly, their attitude towards the stunning young woman made a complete 180, as most of the patches nodded respectfully, the leering faces making an abrupt departure.

Jax clapped a hand on a huge, curly-headed biker. "Yo Phil, where's Ope?"

"Right behind you."

 _Aw, fuck! Really?!_ Hearing the soft tenor voice, Fawn winced and prayed that she would be proven wrong when she turned around.

But she wasn't.

It was the same fucking brick wall she had back-talked to when she first arrived.

"Ope, I don't think you've officially met Fawn, Tig's kid." Jax started, completely unaware of pair's earlier rude introduction. "Fawn, this Opie Winston, VP of the Redwood charter."

Opie did what he could to hide his grin at Fawn's discomfiture. "Yeah, we met."

"Uh, hi." Fawn mumbled.

Jax eyed both of them wondering what the fuck was going on, but had no time to try and figure shit out. With Tig stable and brothers assigned to stand guard, he was eager to get home to his old lady and fill her in on what had happened so she could stop worrying. "Look, Fawn's staying in Tig's dorm at the Clubhouse. Can you take her over there and get her settled? I also need you to make sure she gets back here in the morning by 8:00. I've got an anxious old lady I need to see to."

Opie's eyebrows rose at Jax's request, but he nodded. "Sure. I can do that, brother." Opie cocked his head at Fawn. "Let's go then." He took off down the hall, not waiting to see if Fawn had followed.

 _Great. Just fuckin' great_ , Fawn sighed to herself as she practically had to run to keep up with the towering biker _._

* * *

"My car is parked over there." Fawn pointed to the opposite end of the hospital's parking lot as they exited the building.

"That's your cage?" Opie eyed the Buick. "Is that a deuce and a quarter?"

"Yeah."

"Big car."

"Big girl." She snarked back as she sashayed over to her car.

 _Damn straight about that_ , Ope thought approvingly.

Taking a stab at being gentlemanly with the newcomer, Opie walked behind Fawn, ostensibly to make sure she got to her vehicle safely. In reality, he was watching with rapt fascination as her ass swayed back and forth in her tight jeans.

The big man grinned. _I was right about that fine ass._

In fact, Opie found himself so entranced by its gentle jiggle that it took a second for him to realize that the woman he was protecting was about a second away from being the potential victim of some pervert lying in wait for her. Watching as Fawn reached to open the back door of her car, Opie saw a humongous dark shape rise from the back seat.

"Oh shit!" He growled. Without warning, Fawn felt the strong biker grab her forcefully by her upper arm and unceremoniously yanked her behind him just as she released the door handle. She watched in horror as he pulled out a huge hand cannon of a gun from the inside of his kutte and aimed it at the hidden passenger.

"NO!" She screamed. "Don't shoot! Are you out of your fuckin' mind?"

Trying to get a good aim at the would-be attacker, the SAMCRO VP's jaw dropped as the attacker leaped out of the car with a series of loud barks.

"What the fuck?!" He shouted as a dog about the size of a small horse bounced out of the car, stood up on his hind legs with his front paws on Opie's shoulders and excitedly licked his face with happy little whines and growls.

"Rocco? Rocco, stop it!" Fawn hissed. Reaching around the outlaw biker, she grabbed a hold her dog's collar as she pulled the massive dog off the astonished biker whose face was in danger of being licked clean off. "Have you lost your fuckin' mind, you crazy fur ball?"

Rocco, a large brown greyhound with a sweet face and beautiful brown eyes, now registering the voice of his mistress, finally turned his attention to her and whirled around to shower her with affection, standing with his paws on her shoulders as he nuzzled her in the crook of her neck.

Opie looked on with something akin to wonder as the formerly irritable, snarky and almost down right bratty woman suddenly melted before his eyes as she cooed over her horse.

"Oh my poor baby. I'm so sorry. I know you must be starving, baby. It's okay now. Mama's here." As she lovingly rubbed and stroked the dog's head and neck, Opie found himself looking on with a small twinge of envy.

 _Damn, I kinda wish I was a dog right about now_.

Fawn was feeling really bad about treating her baby so badly. Over ten hours in the back seat of her roomy car was too long a road trip for the only consistently faithful male in all of her adult life. Standing at 4½ feet (nearly 6 feet when standing on his hind legs) and 125 pounds, Rocco was a big dog. He was also a big mush with the ladies, but quite finicky when it came to the males of her species. Rocco seemed to have a general distrust of men, which Fawn greatly appreciated. But the fact that he happily slobbered all over the ornery SAMCRO VP had Fawn thinking that maybe the long car ride had driven the pooch a bit stir crazy.

"Isn't it against the law to drive around with farm animals in a car?"

Fawn looked over at the man who was shoving his gun back into his kutte with one hand while pulling a bandana out of his back pocket to wipe his face with the other.

"Ha. Ha. Grumpy pants has a sense of humor, I see." Fawn snickered. "You should really get your eyes examined. Maybe then you won't go around trying to shoot innocent animals."

Opie sputtered. "I thought I was saving your ass from a would-be perv! You think you might be able to show just a little gratitude?" He replied tersely. "Or is being nearly drowned in mutt drool all I'm getting?"

Fawn gritted her teeth and fumed silently to herself as Rocco ran circles around her. She knew that the ill-natured biker had probably meant well, but she hated to have to acknowledge it, especially when she considered just how well their first meeting had gone. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair.

"Thanks for not shooting my dog." She replied defiantly. That was as good as he was getting out of her. He wasn't the only one who was grumpy. She was tired and suspected that her deodorant had stopped working about three hours ago.

"There's always next time," Opie grumbled as Fawn's eyes widened in shock. Once again, Opie found himself trying to suppress a smirk. "But for now, you're welcome. Now, why don't you get your ass and your pony into your car so we can get the hell out of here?" With that Opie turned away and headed towards his ride.

* * *

Fawn was grateful that the biker had his own ride. After his surprise introduction to Rocco, it would have been an awkward trip to the Clubhouse having him ride shotgun.

 _Yeah, blame Rocco_ , she chastised herself. _Because chewing the big man's ass off earlier has nothing to do with his oh-so-pleasant demeanor now._

As if it hadn't been bad enough that he expected her gratitude for trying to shoot her dog, Fawn was sure she would end up apologizing for her behavior at the hospital as well. And Fawn _hated_ apologizing. According to Colleen, that was just one more way she was _so much_ like her father.

At the mere thought of her father, Fawn found herself trembling. Gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles were white, Fawn tried to push all negative thoughts from her mind.

"He's gonna be alright, Rocco." She said to her faithful companion in the backseat through the rear view mirror. At the sound of her voice again, Rocco's head flew up, his ears standing at attention. "Haven't you heard? Only the good die young." She tried smiling. As if Rocco could sense her anxiety, he put his head on the back of her seat and let his wet tongue sweep over her ear. Eliciting the desired response from his mistress, Rocco barked happily as Fawn let herself laugh.

Right now was not the time to let herself go to that scary place where Tig Trager did not survive. Jax Teller had been right. Her father needed her to pull for him, believe that he was a tough son of a bitch who had just suffered a minor set back. One thing was for sure, however. No matter which way things went, her visit to Charming was destined to be anything but short. It was too soon to tell how long Tig would be in the hospital and, if he survived, how long it would take him to fully recover. Whatever the case might be, she was determined to stick around for however long as her dad needed her. With her mother and sister selfishly thinking about themselves, it was up to Fawn to step up to the plate.

Fawn figured it was safe to assume they had reached their final destination when the VP turned into what was a large gated lot. Pulling in behind him, Fawn was able to make out "Teller-Morrow Auto Services" on the large sign above the center building which was obviously a garage. She vaguely remembered her father working as a mechanic when she was small and they were still a family in Tacoma.

Pulling into a space alongside the L-shaped building that ran the length of the left side of the property, Fawn grabbed her handbag and slammed the door. Letting Rocco out the back, she quickly attached a strong leash to his black steel-studded leather collar. Opening the large trunk, she slung her duffel bag on her shoulder and pulled out one of the two large bags of dog food she had recently purchased.

"Good thing I never got around to unloading this shit, huh, Rocco?" She smiled at her pooch as she slammed the trunk closed.

Looking up at what apparently was the SAMCRO Clubhouse, she waited for the VP to park his bike. Walking straight for her, without a word, Opie reached for the 20-lb bag of dog food she was holding and with very little effort slung it over his shoulder. "Come on in."

Entering the Clubhouse, Fawn was sure she looked like a country bumpkin seeing the bright lights of the big city for the first time. Not an innocent by any stretch of the imagination, Fawn had been in her share of shitty dives in her lifetime. The SAMCRO Clubhouse didn't exactly qualify as a shitty dive, which surprised her, because it wasn't what she had in mind. Looking around cautiously, she decided it was an obvious fit for a bunch of hardcore bikers.

The large and prominently displayed bar gleamed in the glow of the ceiling lights as the smell of stale beer and weed permeated her nostrils. With a young man wearing a similar, yet different looking kutte working the bar, the main area was teeming with people, men and women, playing pool, sitting at tables or on couches. As the music blared from a vintage-looking jukebox, Fawn eyed a scantily-clad woman currently working the stripper pole. Judging from the activity and the general level of rowdiness, Fawn got a sense that partying hard was a pretty big deal in the SAMCRO Clubhouse.

 _Even when one of their members was about to die_ , Fawn thought bitterly.

Opie walked towards the bar and stopped, eying Fawn as she checked out the Club and noting how the hang-arounds and croweaters eyed her and Rocco in return. Some were giving him curious looks, as well, surprised to see him in the company of a woman no one's ever seen before.

"Hey," Opie said. As Fawn looked over at him, he nodded towards the bar. "You want a drink, something to eat?"

Fawn shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't drink and I'm not really hungry. I'd rather just crash, but I could use about 4 bottles of water and a couple of large bowls for my dog."

Opie raised an eyebrow. "All right. Come this way." Directing the Prospect behind the bar to get the items Fawn requested and to bring them to Tig's dorm, he walked in front her and headed towards the long row of dorms. Stopping in front of one, Opie pulled Tig's set of keys from his pocket, and tried several before finding the right one. Opening the door, he ushered Fawn in and placed the dog food on the floor.

Throwing on the light, Fawn smiled to herself. Yep, her father's room was pretty much as she expected it would be. A former Marine, Tig was all about being neat and orderly. It used to drive her mother insane whenever he would fuss at her about keeping their apartment clean. Housekeeping, apparently, was not one of Colleen's strong suits.

Tig's queen size bed was made with military precision, shockingly white sheets drawn tight over and tucked neatly under the mattress. The night tables on either side of the bed were bare except for a lamp and paperback novel on one and an alarm clock on the other. Picking it up the book, Fawn grinned as she noted that it was Tom Clancy's latest novel. Placing the book back just as she had found it on the night table, Fawn opened the drawer, her eyes widening.

 _Why am I surprised_? Fawn thought as she saw a vast assortment of condoms, lubricants, and sex toys.

Quickly closing the drawer, she let her eyes wander to the bureau that held a large familiar wood box, which Fawn knew was where Tig kept a number of his guns. The desk on the opposite side of the room held a small microwave and the shelf above it was stocked with several boxes of cereal and a number of dry good items.

Peering into the bathroom, it didn't surprise her at all that the porcelain tub, toilet, and sink nearly sparkled, with the shelves over the wicker hamper loaded with fresh, clean towels.

Re-entering the room, Fawn saw that Rocco had quickly made himself at home, stretched out on top of her father's bed. The room seemed very tiny with the large VP standing in the doorway as he watched her move about with great interest.

Feeling the need to make amends, Fawn finally decided to suck it up. "Listen," she started. "About what happened at the hospital—"

"Don't sweat it. You lost your head. Shit happens." Opie replied. "Just don't let it happen again." He warned.

Fawn chuckled as she put a hand on her cocked hip. "Oh, do not get it twisted, Redwood." She said, prompting Opie to blink rapidly as if doing so were in any way connected to him hearing correctly. "I'm not apologizing because what I said was _wrong_. I usually get taken out for dinner first before my ass gets stripped naked. I'm merely apologizing for the tone and delivery."

"Well, alright, then. So glad we cleared that shit up." Opie muttered. "Make sure your ass is ready by 7:30." He said as he slammed the door behind him.

"Asshole!" Fawn called out, but not loud enough for the giant to hear.

Dumping her duffel bag on the floor, Fawn flopped down onto her back on the bed, slightly startled and disturbed that she was looking at herself looking down at her from the mirror attached to the ceiling. As Rocco laid his head on her flat tummy, she reached down to scratch his ears and shook her head.

"I sure have a way with men, don't I, boy?" Fawn smirked. "Kinda explains why I have to share my bed with you, don't it?"


	3. Rude Awakenings

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The bright beams of sunlight streaming through the slats of the blinds caused Fawn to wake up with a start as they shone on her face. Not recognizing her surroundings at first, she could hear Rocco's distinctive snore as the big dog slept curled up into a large ball at her feet. Taking a moment to refocus, the events of the past day started to reassert themselves in her memory.

_Dad. Shot. Near death. Opie._

Trying to ignore the last thought, Fawn sat up in her father's bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Just a moment later, the loud, shrill noise of Tig's alarm clock went off, startling Rocco to the point where he rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Quickly getting to his feet, he started barking at the annoying sound as Fawn scrambled to turn it off. The alarm, along with Rocco adding to the racket, felt like a spike being driven through her head.

"Shhh, boy," Fawn murmured as a sudden yawn caused her face to contort with the effort. "It's too fuckin' early for that shit."

Fawn almost never did early mornings. A night owl by nature, she was accustomed to taking Rocco for a walk at four a.m., which she had done this morning, before going to bed for at least six hours before she had to be at work by noon. Normally, getting up at 6:00 was very un-Fawn-like, but this morning, only one thing was foremost in her mind. She needed to know if her father had pulled through the night.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, the young woman stood up and stretched her arms over her head to loosen the kinks in her lower back caused by her long drive the day before. Padding on bare feet to the bathroom, she stripped the oversized black t-shirt from her body, hanging it on the peg behind the bathroom door, and jumped into the small shower.

As the steaming hot water ran over her, Fawn poured a small amount of her favorite rose-scented shower gel into the palm of her hand. Building up a nice lather, she quickly worked it over her body as she thought about her conversation with her mother the night before.

Using the power adapter for her cell phone, Fawn decided to call Colleen to let her know she had made it to Charming and to give her an update on Tig. Colleen asked no questions about his condition and made no comments as her daughter ran down the list of her old man's injuries, other than to say that if anyone could survive being shot four times, it was the stubborn ex-Marine. Colleen's need for gossip, however, made Fawn's teeth stand on edge.

" _Any idea who shot him? Why?"_

_Fawn hesitated. "I don't know. If the Club has that information, the charter's President hasn't shared it with me yet."_

_Colleen harrumphed. "Don't hold your breath because he's not likely too, either. The fact that you're Alex's daughter won't get you the truth, no matter what happens. You're an outsider and are not to be trusted. I'm surprised they're letting you stay at the Clubhouse unsupervised."_

_Fawn snorted derisively, but Colleen continued. "I'm not joking, Fawn. These men, the entire MC, are clannish by nature. They trust each other implicitly. According to what Alex told me, it comes with the patch. As for their women, the only ones allowed in their tight inner circle and are trusted almost as much as members are the old ladies. And even then, only if they have a crow tat. Any woman you see inside that Clubhouse without that tat or a 'Property of' patch is only there to open beers and suck dick. Outsiders in their midst are unheard of, so watch your back at all times. Do not let anyone treat you like a whore."_

_Although her mother had been right in her assessment of the MC so far, Fawn couldn't help but wonder if Colleen was exaggerating now. Somewhere along the way, Colleen had soured on living the MC life. Fawn had no doubt that had more to do with her father's cheating than anything else. As far as being treated with suspicion because she was an "outsider", Fawn was having a hard time reconciling that with the gentlemanly SAMCRO President who had been willing to put her up for the night in his own home. But, remembering the epic fail that had been her introduction to the SAMCRO VP, Fawn decided that at the moment, her mother was her best source of knowledge on how not to behave while inhabiting this strange new world._

" _What do you know about the Redwood charter? Do you know any of the members?" Fawn asked._

" _Not personally. I mean, not like I know the members and their old ladies from Tacoma. Before you girls were born, I remember meeting John Teller and his VP Clay Morrow. I think at the time Clay had a thing going on with one of the Tacoma hang-arounds and spent a lot of time at the Clubhouse." Colleen explained._

" _John Teller? Did he have any sons?"_

" _Yeah, if I remember correctly, he had two but one died very young. If you met the SAMCRO President, then you met his oldest, Jackson."_

" _Jax Teller, yeah, I did. Did you ever meet anyone else?"_

" _It was a long time ago and a part of my history I'd rather not relive. Why do you ask?"_

" _No reason. I just thought it would be good to have some inside information on some of the members I'm dealing with here. They're a pretty rough bunch, if what I've seen so far is anything to go by."_

_Colleen laughed. "Considering your circle of friends, that's saying a lot. Who have you met so far?"_

" _No one really, other than the Prez, Jax Teller. And his VP Opie—"_

" _Shit, Fawn. Opie Winston?" Colleen interrupted._

_Fawn's eyes widened as she heard the interested tone in her mother's voice. "Yeah. You know him?"_

" _Only of him. Like Jax, he's second generation First 9. His father co-founded the Club with John Teller, Piney, I think is his name. Honey, you might want to steer clear of him."_

" _Why?" Fawn couldn't keep the wicked grin off her face. "Is he bad news?" Because, oh boy, did she have a weakness for bad boys._

_Colleen sighed. "I can only tell you what little I heard."_

" _From who?"_

" _From Jackie, Deacon's old lady back in Tacoma. We still keep in touch and she keeps me in the loop. Not as much as when Tig and I were still together—fuckin' old lady code. I'm no longer in the 'inner circle', but whenever she heard something about your dad she thought I should know, she'd give me a ring. She called one day a while back and told me there was some bad blood between your dad and that Winston boy."_

" _What happened?"_

" _She didn't say, but when I pressed her for details, she shrugged it off. I don't know how bad it got, but apparently he had it out for your father, wanted him dead. Knowing Alex, it probably had something to do with his old lady. Alex always had a problem keeping his dick out of places it didn't belong. I don't know if whatever happened between them ever got resolved, but—" Colleen paused._

" _But what?" Fawn questioned anxiously._

" _But if the SAMCRO Prez wasn't forthcoming with the details, maybe it's because his VP had something to do with it. Apparently, pulling a gun on another member is punishable by death." Colleen concluded._

" _Jesus, Mom. Jump to conclusions much? That's a pretty big accusation to make." Fawn was stunned. What ass-backwards wormhole had she stepped into and ended up in medieval times, except with Harleys and leather kuttes?_

" _This is between just the two of us, so keep it to yourself. I'm only telling you because you need to tread very carefully out there. I understand that you want to be there for your father, but take it from me. Keep those bikers at arm's length, especially that Opie Winston." Colleen warned. "I know you, Fawn. You love the trouble-making hellraisers and right now, you're in Ground Zero. The last thing you want to do is get involved with any of them, especially where your heart is concerned."_

Finishing her shower, Fawn stepped out of the tub, wrapped a towel around herself and used another to dry her hair. Sitting in the lone armchair in a corner of the room, she continued to contemplate her mother's innuendo regarding the SAMCRO VP.

Fawn didn't like the possibility that something crooked was going on behind the attack on her father or that Jax Teller had all but asked her to be an accomplice in the cover-up. She knew her mother and Colleen Trager lived for drama. She knew better than to take anything Colleen had to say regarding the Sons of Anarchy too seriously. But now that the information was in her head, Fawn had to acknowledge that, until she knew otherwise, it might be a possibility. And learning otherwise might be a possibility only if her father survived.

"Stop that shit, goddamnit!" Fawn yelled at herself, causing Rocco to look at her from the bed and whine.

During her entire drive to Charming, Fawn had berated herself for taking the coward's way out when it came to Tig Trager. Instead of acting like a grown woman and confronting him for his bullshit, she had refused to have any contact with her father for more than a year over what he had tried to explain was a misunderstanding. Refusing to listen, she had cut herself off and now it was possible that she may never get the chance to speak to him again.

If he survived, however, she promised herself to stop acting like a petulant child—that only worked for Dawn, anyway—and work on their relationship as father and daughter. It wasn't going to be easy because Tig Trager was in no way, shape or form a touchy-feely, let's-talk-shit-out type of man.

 _That's just too damn bad_ , Fawn thought as she plugged in her hair dryer and worked her styling brush through her long wet hair. Regardless of whether he wanted to or not, Fawn Trager was planning an intervention of her own this time around.

 _And what if Mom is right and Opie Winston did have something to do with Dad getting hurt_?

Oh, there would be hell to pay.

 _No matter how damn good-looking he is_!

* * *

Closing the door to Tig's dorm behind her, Fawn headed towards the Main Room of the Clubhouse. The first order of business was to find out if her Dad had made it through the night.

The second was securing some decent food because she was literally starving. It was unlikely that she was going to find anything decent to eat here, but Fawn, who was unfamiliar with the small town, didn't want to take a chance at further angering her biker chaperone by getting lost trying to find a proper store.

With the aroma of freshly baked goods and rich coffee assaulting her nose, Fawn placed her hands over her stomach to quiet its loud grumbling as she reached the Main Room.

"Sounds like somebody's a little hungry."

Looking around the room cluttered with bodies leftover from last night's festivities, Fawn focused her gaze on the lone figure sitting by himself at one of the tables. Judging from the kutte he wore, Fawn figured that the heavyset, shaggy-haired man was a patched member. But it had to be the large carafe of the most heavenly smelling coffee, the blueberry muffins as big as her fist, and the still-steaming loaf of banana bread fresh from the oven that caught her attention.

Knowing that her face was probably pink-cheeked from embarrassment thanks to her noisy stomach, she nodded her head at the man. "I might be."

The man chuckled. "I don't think there are any might-be's about it, sweetheart." Grabbing a plate from a stack on a nearby table, he placed it on the table in front of an empty chair. "Help yourself."

Walking up to the man, Fawn tried not to make eye contact with the food. "I appreciate the offer. And it all smells fantastic, but I only eat organic, so—"

"So, you'll eat hearty then. These here are my homemade blueberry muffins and banana bread, all 100% organic. Even have some organic honey and butter, too."

Fawn's eyes widened. "You made this? And it's organic?"

"Absolutely. Hey, is it really so hard to believe that I'm actually quite picky about what I put into my body?" The man teased good-naturedly, eliciting a chuckle from Fawn. "The name's Bobby Elvis and you must be Tig's kid. Now have a seat, help yourself."

"My Dad, do you know how he's doing?" Fawn asked. "I should really check in with someone."

Bobby waved a hand. "He's fine. He made it through the night. Now sit down. I'm sure he wouldn't want you passing out."

"Thanks. It's nice meeting you." Fawn didn't need a second invitation and quickly plopped herself in the seat across from the older biker.

"Coffee?" Bobby held up the carafe.

"Yes, please."

Grabbing a mug, he poured her a large helping. Placing the mug in front of her, Bobby grinned as the young woman helped herself to one of the largest muffins in the basket and broke it in half. Picking up a knife, Fawn lavishly spread butter over it. As she took a big bite, Bobby grinned even wider as the young women let out a little moan.

Swallowing her first bite and following it with a sip of good, rich coffee, Fawn's sparkling blue eyes looked over her cup at Bobby. "You married?"

"Nope."

"Why the hell not? This is the best damn muffin I've ever eaten in my life!"

"Just wait 'til you taste the banana bread."

* * *

Fawn spent the next hour eating and grilling Bobby about Charming, where to find the best deals on organic food, his three marriages, and his love for Elvis and his youngest son Tiki.

Everything except just what exactly had happened to her father.

Having finally sated her appetite, Fawn took another look around the Clubhouse. "Looks like the party picked up speed after I bedded down for the night."

"Actually, with SAMCRO at the hospital watching over your dad, this crew here is pretty tame, just a bunch of hang-arounds." Changing the subject, Bobby poured some more coffee into their cups. "Now that we've exhausted all the possible topics of conversation, why don't you ask me about what you really want to know."

"Uh, and that would be?" Fawn tried to play dumb.

"Your Dad."

"And what do you think I want to know?"

"What happened."

" _Do_ you know?"

"Not all of it, I don't. I came back last night after wrapping up a week-long gig in Tahoe and stumbled onto this mess. Happens that way a lot. I go away and come back to shit happening." Bobby explained. "Knowing Tig, he was probably looking out for his brothers and I know that might be a little hard for you to swallow right now," He managed to get in before Fawn started protesting. "But, if you know your dad, you know that he'd want you to trust us or, at least, give us the benefit of the doubt."

Fawn thoughtfully sipped at her coffee as she looked Bobby in the eye. She didn't know what it was about big, burly men that inspired such warm, fuzzy feelings in her, but having just met Bobby Elvis, she felt she could trust him. "Maybe. I can try."

"That's all we can ask." Bobby smiled. "Ope should be here soon to take you to the hospital. I've got some things I need to square away in the office this morning, but I'll catch up with you there later, okay?"

"Sounds great," Fawn smiled back. "And thanks for breakfast, Bobby."

"No problem." Bobby replied. "Oh, and don't worry about Rocco. I'm gonna pull a Prospect out of the garage and put him on babysitting duty."

As Fawn watched the older man head outside, she remembered she had left her cell phone charging in Tig's room. She had just enough time to go get it and, thinking of the grumpy outlaw, it wouldn't hurt to freshen up her makeup as well.

* * *

The voice that echoed in the Main Room startled Fawn as she pulled her car keys out of her bag.

"So who were you doing last night?"

 _What the hell_?

Looking up, Fawn saw a woman standing by the bar. About 130 pounds with wavy blond hair, the woman had a decent body, fitted into a micro-miniskirt and black halter top. But judging by the lines on her face, it was easy to see that the woman's 30th birthday had long since become a distant memory.

"Excuse me?" Fawn asked confused as she looked round, not quite sure who the woman was talking to.

"I said, who were you fuckin' last night?"

 _Oh, no she didn't_.

"Uh, I don't know you like that. As a matter of fact, I don't know you at all. Why the interest in my sex life?" Fawn asked resentfully.

Teetering on four-inch Lucite stripper heels, Emily Duncan crossed her arms under her ample breasts. It was no surprise that changes had come about in the Clubhouse with the change in leadership. Jax Teller's old lady had very little patience and tolerance for the croweaters and sweetbutts, so whenever the Queen was in residence, the Club women would make themselves scarce. But for the most part, Jolene Teller—unlike her mother-in-law who practically lived on the lot during her reign—left the Clubhouse to be enjoyed by its members, only visiting for the occasional party or when she was having trouble getting in touch with her old man. Emily, who had been partying exclusively with the Sons on and off since she was eighteen years old, felt she was entitled to the HBIC title.

New bitches had to recognize that there was a pecking order that needed to be respected. New meat was kept to a minimum by Emily and her small crew of croweaters because they caused too much of a feeding frenzy among the patches. The attention they called to themselves by simply being "new pussy" was unfair to the girls who had put in their time.

This was obviously some bitch new in town hoping to find a place here, but the girl was far too good looking to remain a sweetbutt for long. Emily could see the potential this girl had of snagging a patch of her very own and that was a risk she wasn't willing to take. Not after it had taken her so long to become a favorite regular of one patch in particular. She needed to get rid of this girl and fast.

Emily narrowed her green eyes at younger woman. "I don't answer to you, sweetheart, but you _will_ answer my fuckin' question."

Remembering the stories Colleen had told her about the skanks associated with the Club, almost like groupies, Fawn realized that bikers weren't the only ones who were clannish. Apparently, the Club whores were also wary of outsiders, but she would be damned if she would allow herself to be treated like a whore.

Suddenly, Fawn flashed a hard grin that, if any SAMCRO member had seen it, they would have known beyond the shadow of a doubt who her daddy was and that it was about to get seriously demented around here. Unfortunately for this trick, Fawn had the combined tempers of her fiery red-headed mother and her crazy as a shithouse rat father. It may have been a while since she had laid a good and proper beatdown on another woman, but she wasn't about to let some worn out pussy talk crazy to her.

"Oh my, it looks like some uppity, glorified whore with a diva complex has forgotten her place." Fawn said, casually dropping her hobo bag and black leather jacket on the floor by her feet. "However, getting in my face is a step in the right direction if you're looking to get put back there."

"I'm not gonna fight you, sweetie. I don't even need to know who you were banging last night. I just need you to get your shit and get the hell out of here before the rest of the women here wake up and help you on your way." Emily threatened with a murderous smile of her own playing on her lips.

Opie opened the door to the Clubhouse in time to hear Fawn's retort.

"What, you can't handle me yourself, bitch?"

 _Fuck, I knew there was gonna be trouble with this one. She's just too damn pretty not to cause a stir wherever she goes_.

Stepping into the Clubhouse, Opie caught a clear view of Fawn Trager. Outfitted in a pair of black leggings, high heel boots, a green peasant-style blouse with a cinched waist, and long silver earrings, the woman looked gorgeous. And pissed.

It was entirely probable that Tig's daughter could handle herself in a catfight, but Opie had no intention of finding out. He had two children that needed their father and if, by some miracle, Emily did manage to take Fawn down, Opie knew he'd be taking a permanent dirt nap if Tig ever found out that it happened on his watch.

"Okay, that's enough." He barked.

Both women had been so engrossed in their argument that they were both startled at his sudden appearance.

Reaching out to tuck her arm through his, Emily purred. "Opie, baby—"

"Sit your ass down, Em. And watch your mouth. Tig wouldn't appreciate you trying to tear a hole in his daughter."

As the woman gaped at Opie's revelation, Fawn rolled her eyes. "Please, like she even had a chance."

"Fawn, get your shit and let's go." Opie ordered. "Now."

Grabbing her stuff off the floor, Fawn stomped towards him as she put on her jacket. "Cheap ass dye job." Fawn muttered under her breath at Emily as she walked by. Grabbing her arm, Opie half dragged her out of the Clubhouse and into the lot. "Hey!" Fawn exclaimed, objecting to being manhandled.

"You need to quit your shit." He abruptly let go of her arm and headed towards his bike.

"Me? I didn't start shit, but I was about to finish it before you came along." Fawn replied. "And please tell me you're not actually doing that old trick? 'Cause damn, that bitch ain't even cougar material. She's like, ancient!" She snapped at his retreating back.

Stopping dead in his tracks, the tall biker whipped around and stalked back towards her and she knew she was in for it now. Snatching her up by shoulders and lifting her several inches off the ground, Fawn found herself staring wide-eyed straight into a pair of angry green eyes.

"Why are you already trying my damn patience again this morning?" Opie growled. "You haven't even been here a full day yet and you've already been in two scrapes. I know your father said you were crazy, but damn, chill the fuck out! Now get your ass in your car and follow me." He barked.

Dropping her suddenly on her feet, Fawn watched as the biker stalked over to his bike. Pouting as she stomped over to her car, Fawn's ass twitched with every step she took.

 _And Jax said that he would treat me nice. Ha! Nice guy my ass_!

Opening her car door, Fawn threw her bag on the passenger seat and got in. Muttering obscenities under her breath, she shoved the key into the car's ignition and turned it, only to hear the engine attempt to turn over as it made loud, grinding noises.

"Oh, no you don't!" Fawn growled. "Don't you dare do this to me you, fuckin' piece of shit!" Again, she turned the key only to hear that same horrible grinding noise. "Damn it! Damn it all to HELL!" Fawn beat on her steering wheel manically with her fists.

"Uh, I think your car's dead."

Fawn slowly turned her head to stare with a gimlet eye as the SAMCRO VP leaned against her car, one of his huge hands resting on the roof of her car, the other on the Buick's door as he made no attempt to hide his grin. Opie wasn't sure what to make of this woman. One minute, she pissed him off enough that he wanted to bend her over his knee and the next, he just wanted to bend her over.

 _Even now I'm not sure whether she's planning on ripping me a new one or just stare at my fuckin' hands all day_.

Opie's observation was quite accurate as Fawn's startling blue eyes were momentarily riveted on the biker's large hand on her door. _Fuckin' ginormous hands! You know what that means, don't ya_ , her inner voice said gleefully.

Fawn told her inner voice to fuck off as she pulled herself back to the problem at hand. Her beloved car, having been pushed to the limit in her 10-hour drive from Seattle, had finally died. Now she had no ride and no way to get to the hospital.

Looking up at the big man, Fawn had to bite the inside of her cheek before she once again unleashed her acid tongue on him. "Yeah, I got that." She replied shortly. "Can you please call a cab for me?"

Suddenly her car door was yanked opened. "No. Come. Now." Opie ordered as her mouth started twitching at him.

Sighing, she grabbed her bag and got out of her car. "So, what, you have a car around here for me to take?"

"Nope." He replied as he headed over to his bike.

Fawn rested a hand on a cocked hip. "Then how the hell am I going to get to the hospital?"

Reaching his bike, Opie grabbed his helmet and tossed it at her. Fawn's reflexes were surprisingly quick and she managed to catch it before it crashed onto the blacktop. "Why are you giving me this?" She asked, confused.

Opie sighed as he straddled his bike. _Oh, great. She's hot, but crazy and not too bright_.

"The helmet goes on your head and your ass goes on my bike." Opie said slowly and loudly, just in case she was deaf as well as dumb.

Fawn just stared at him like she was about ready to swing on him with the helmet. "I'm not riding with you. I ain't your bitch."

"Never said you were." Opie eyed the fiery red-haired woman, who was eying his ride as if it were a death trap. _My ride is a hell of a lot safer than her cage, no matter how bad ass it looks_. "What, you never been on a bike before?"

Fawn sighed impatiently. "Of course I have. My dad used to take me riding when I was a kid. _A really long time ago_." And it had been a lot of fun, she thought, suddenly nostalgic as she remembered screaming with laughter as Tig tore up the Tacoma highways.

"It's not that hard, Fawn, especially since I'm doing all the work. All you have to do is hold on." Opie responded. It was his turn to sigh in exasperation as she didn't budge. As a matter of fact, it looked like she had stopped breathing. "Look, I have to get your ass to the hospital and I don't have all day, and neither does your father, so get the fuck on."

With the VP's not-so-subtle reminder that her father was lying unconscious in his bed fighting for his life, Fawn realized she had no choice. Walking towards the bike, she took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was to be intimately pressed up against the SAMCRO VP, but she didn't really have a choice.

After fastening the helmet on her head, with one hand on his broad shoulder, Fawn swung her long leg over and settled onto the bitch seat. She couldn't prevent herself from wincing loud enough for Opie to hear as her inner legs and thighs made contact with the outlaw biker's ass and legs. Even through his jeans, she could tell that Opie Winston was an extremely muscular and well-put together specimen of a man.

 _Shit, this is so not good_.

 _Shut up and stop complaining_ , her inner whore chastised her. _I'm having a great time_.

Looping the long strap of her handbag across her body, Fawn gingerly rested her hands on Opie's waist.

"Okay, I'm ready." She announced.

"Uh, no, you're not." Suddenly, Opie found himself grinning as he felt the woman behind him stiffen and tense up. Grabbing the limp hands that were resting on his waist, he pulled her arms forward so that they were completely wrapped around him tightly. " _That's_ how you ride. Unless, of course, you _want_ a mouthful of asphalt with the first turn I make."

 _But I'd go straight to hell for damaging that face with road rash_.

Not waiting for her reply, Opie gunned his motor and took off.

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue as she found herself pressed tightly against him. She kept chasing the thought away, but it was almost as if they were a perfect fit. The heady scent of cigarettes mixed with his leather and spicy cologne nearly had her eyes rolling to the back of her head. There was just too much going on all at once and Fawn felt a sensory overload coming on as she tried in vain to keep her face from pressing into Opie's back where his long hair overflowed. She was fighting the urge to touch it with her fingers—if only out of fear of letting go and flying off his bike—because whenever it grazed against her cheek, it was surprisingly soft and silky.

 _Damn, if Tina saw me on the ride of a hot biker, she'd yank my ass off by my hair_ , Fawn smiled as she thought about her good friend back in Seattle, who was forever warning her away from the bad boys. _But then she'd probably take a ride herself and jump on his jock when they were done_.

Trying to get her mind off of her chaperone, Fawn tried to focus on keeping her ass on his ride instead by holding on for dear life as other vehicles rode in front, alongside, and behind them. Fawn was too busy nearly squeezing the man to death to really pay attention to the town she had driven like a maniac through the night before.

But slowly, as she started getting accustomed to the feel of the bike and its driver, Fawn started to relax and started paying attention to their surroundings, particularly to the people on the street and their reaction to the large outlaw riding his powerful Harley. Some looked on in admiration, even respect, but more than a few looked fearful, while others condescending. Whatever their thoughts were with regards to the biker, it was clear above all that no one in the small town was prepared to step out of line with the Sons of Anarchy.

While thinking about Opie Winston was maddening and somewhat fun, it was also a distraction. A distraction Fawn knew she was using to keep her anxiety about her father at bay. And it had worked too, but as they drew ever closer to the hospital, thoughts of the hot biker evaporated, leaving behind the very real fear that her father wouldn't survive.

Fawn could only hope that she was met with some positive news once she stepped foot inside St. Thomas.

* * *

Fawn had to admit that, as she walked down the hospital corridors with Opie Winston at her side, she felt a certain level of protection in his company. She couldn't help but notice just how people looked at members of the Club, even though she had been in their company for less than a day. Walking out of the elevator, Opie escorted his charge to the waiting room, where the crowd of his brothers had been corralled by several men in blue uniforms.

 _Oh shit_ , Fawn thought as she eyed the emblem on the shoulder of one of them identifying him as a Sanwa Sheriff, Morada Sub-Station. _Jax said that the cops were going to press Dad for information on the shooting._ _Maybe this meant that Tig has finally regained consciousness_ _._

Standing up, Jax walked over to her with several of his brothers in his wake. "Did you get some rest?"

"Yeah, I did." Fawn nodded. "Is Dad awake?" She asked anxiously.

"Not yet, but we can go see him in a minute." He replied. "Last night was crazy and I don't think I introduced you to anyone but Ope. You need anything at all, SAMCRO's here for you. This here's Chibs, Happy, Juice, Half Sack, Filthy Phil, and Tiki." As Jax went around the circle, Fawn shook hands with several men.

 _God, these are some scary-looking bastards,_ Fawn noted. _Scarred faces, shaved heads, Mohawks. The only ones not too scary are Abbott and Costello. And the tall one I met yesterday. He's a cutie._

"I met your father this morning." Fawn smiled, as she shook Tiki's hand.

"Bobby Elvis?" Tiki asked and Fawn nodded. "Yeah, that's my old man."

"He's really sweet. And an awesome baker."

Opie noted the look of appreciation on Fawn's face as she shook Tiki's hand. He didn't like it. "Yeah, nice to see what the kid's gonna look like in about 20 years." He remarked somewhat sourly.

 _What the hell did I do_? Tiki wondered as his brothers enjoyed a laugh at his expense.

 _What a jerk,_ Fawn thought. "I certainly hope like father, like son. Bobby is a sexy older guy." She said sweetly. "Every woman should be so lucky to snare a man who can croon like Elvis _and_ cook and I bet Tiki's a catch just like his Dad."

As Jax was eying his best friend like he was crazy, Juice suddenly cleared his throat rather loudly, cutting through the tension. "We need to brief Fawn." Jax started. "I'm sure Roosevelt's gonna be showing up next and she needs to be prepared for that."

After quickly briefing Fawn on the scenario Jax had concocted regarding Tig's shooting, the SAMCRO Prez and Fawn entered Tig's private room as a nurse was checking his vitals.

"How is he doing?" Fawn asked the petite woman in her late 30s as she scribbled some notes on her father's chart.

"He's doing very well, considering his injuries. He made it through the night and the first 12 hours are always critical in terms of recovery. The doctor will be by shortly and he'll be able to give you an update in greater detail." The nurse smiled at them both, but Fawn noticed the nurse's suddenly-pink cheeks as Jax thanked her with a wink and a smile for looking after his brother.

Catching Fawn rolling her eyes as the nurse left, he crossed his arms. "What's that about?"

"As if you didn't know." She replied with a smirk. "I thought the poor woman was about to giggle and pass out. It's one thing to witness it. I'm sure it's another thing altogether to be on the receiving end of that dirty-promises smile of yours."

Jax cocked his head at the suddenly perky woman. "You know, for somebody who doesn't know me or my brothers all that well, you sure have a pretty snarky mouth on you."

Fawn shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. Reaching out, she stroked what bit of her father's curly black hair she had access to. "Both my parents have diarrhea of the mouth. It's the Trager family flaw. We always say shit that seems pretty normal to us, only to realize later that it was just on this side of crazy." Looking up at the SAMCRO President, she smiled. "But that doesn't mean I'm full of shit. I was just calling it as I saw it."

"All I did was smile at the woman and thank her for looking out for my brother." Jax protested in vain.

Fawn folded her arms as she eyed the barely concealed smirk on his face and the twinkle in his eye. "Shut up! You know exactly what you were doing, playa. You flashed her the _'I'm one step away from making you my baby mama if you just drop them panties for me'_ smile. I've seen that shit used before by guys to get what they want—in this case, preferred treatment for my Dad and I appreciate it, but you need to be careful because it can backfire on you. Had I not been in the room, you were one step away from having to come through with the promises behind that dirty smile." Fawn choked back a snort as the blond biker's mouth dropped open.

"I'm fuckin' dying here and your discussing my Prez's panty-dropping skills? Ain't that just like a bitch?"

"Daddy!" Fawn gasped as her head snapped around to see her father's deep blue eyes peering at her through narrow slits.

"Shit! I must be dying if you're here in Charming _and_ calling me 'Daddy'." The SAA groaned. "Now will somebody please tell me I put a damn bulls-eye on the forehead of that low life piece of shit."

Jax reached over to place a ringed hand on his brother's arm. "You did, my brother. And it was fuckin' awesome."

Fawn's mouth fell open.

 _WTF_?

"And what about shithead's father?"

"Nailed him too, bro." Jax smiled. "But don't worry about that shit right now."

"Good." Tig's voice was raspy and dry from the tubes that had been removed from his throat overnight. "Honey, get me some water, will ya? My mouth's drier than the fuckin' Mohave desert."

"Let me get the Doc while you take care of your Dad." Jax headed for the door as Fawn poured water from an ice-filled plastic pitcher into the cup the nurse had left on his bedside table. Wiping at the tears running down her nose with the back of one hand, she used the other to guide the straw into her father's mouth. "Not too much. Just a couple of sips." When it looked like Tig wasn't going to comply, she snatched it out of his mouth. "What the fuck did I just say?"

"I'm thirsty, damn it!" The stubborn biker replied. "Give me some more."

"I think that's enough for the moment." Dr. McNamara said as he entered the room, with a nurse and Jax following behind him. "Ms. Trager, Mr. Teller, please excuse us for a minute. I need to see to my patient."

* * *

Following the doctor's orders, both Fawn and Jax exited the room. Fawn collapsed into the nearest chair in ICU, her head in her hands.

"Hey, you a'ight?" Jax crouched in front of her.

She looked up into the concerned face of Jax Teller. "Yeah. No. Oh, I don't fuckin' know. I just—I really didn't think he was going to—"

"Pull through? Your Dad's stronger than that." He assured her. "He's been put through some serious shit, stuff that could have destroyed him long ago if he allowed it. I didn't think he'd let himself get taken out by a few bullets."

Fawn swiped at her eyes. "He is a stubborn old bastard, isn't he?"

"You bet." Jax stood up. "I'm gonna let the boys know that he's awake and bitchin', always a good sign. Can I get you some coffee? You look like you could use a hit."

"That would be great thanks."

Fawn watched as Jax headed down the corridor, grabbed Tiki by the back of the neck and bent over to talk into his ear. As the SAMCRO Prez continued towards the cafeteria, Tiki headed in her direction. "Hey, your old man's awake. That's great fuckin' news."

"Thanks." Fawn dug around in her bag for a pack of Kleenex. Blowing her nose vigorously, she discarded the used tissues in a nearby wastebasket. "Let me guess. You've been assigned to watch over me?"

"Smart chick." He squatted down beside her.

"I thought only newbies got stuck with the shitty, grunt work." Fawn teased.

"Hey, looking out for my brother's kid ain't shitty, grunt work, especially not when she looks like you." Tiki winked at her. Fawn cocked an eyebrow at the young man. "I'm teasing. Prez is looking out for you by putting me on the job. Your old man was my sponsor. I lay a finger on ya and Tig'll cut it off and eat it."

"Your sponsor? What, like AA?" Fawn queried.

Tiki chuckled. "Nah. Membership's by invitation only. Not only did Tig invite me to Prospect, but he mentored me. Tig's the shit, man. Best teacher I ever had."

"Why didn't Bobby 'sponsor' you?"

"Because my Mom would have killed his ass." Tiki laughed. "As it was, Tig was taking his life into his hands when he cut me a break."

"You really wanted to be a part of the Club that badly?" Fawn asked, intrigued.

"It's all I ever wanted. We're a brotherhood, a family. It's nice knowing you have a Clubhouse full of men just like you looking out for one another."

Eying Tiki, Fawn realized that maybe she had just found her own mentor. The fact was, although her father had been a Son for over 25 years, she knew nothing about MCs in general and, judging by what she had seen and heard so far, they functioned like a secret, closed society. The word gangsters came to mind, but even knowing as little as she did, Fawn knew that wasn't the right description either. Her mother had likened the Club to outlaws of the Old West, who lived by their own code of honor.

Fawn wasn't naïve, though, and she knew that calling themselves outlaws meant they were criminals. Colleen had mentioned a long time ago that gun running was the Club's main source of income. That knowledge, however, didn't have the desired effect on her that her mother had been hoping for. Tig Trager might be a criminal, but he was still her father. A shitty father, but the only one she had and she loved him in spite of it.

Aside from the criminal nature of the Club, Fawn had no real idea as to how the MC operated as a whole. The ragtag bunch of testosterone-filled bikers were something of a mystery to her and she had already stuck her foot in it a couple of times. Tiki seemed to love the Club and admired her father. He was young and didn't seem to mind answering her questions. Maybe he could be a source of information to help her keep her foot out of it going forward when it came to the Club, the one thing Fawn knew her father loved beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Fawn had already let her diarrhea of the mouth get her into the shit with Opie and that whore at the Clubhouse. Not to mention that she had jerked the President's chain in front of her not-so-comatose father, no less. Fortunately for her, Jax Teller seemed more amused than upset at her mouthing off, but it could be easy enough to get anyone of these biker's riled up. Since Tig had mentored the young man, maybe Tiki could help her get a better handle on her old man as well. At this point, Tiki was probably her best bet in finding out just what exactly had happened between her father and Opie Winston.

She was just about to ask him another question when she heard him mutter, "Oh, shit."

Following his gaze down the hall, she saw a tall black man wearing the uniform of the Sanwa Sheriff's coming towards them. "What's the problem?" She whispered.

" _That_ is Sheriff Eli Roosevelt. He probably heard that Tig's awake and wants to question him."

"Not on my fuckin' watch." Fawn exclaimed and quickly stood up, taking her position directly in front of her father's door just as the Sheriff was about to reach for the door knob.

"Can I help you?" She asked politely.

The Sheriff eyed the young woman blocking his path. "Yes, you could. You could step aside, please."

"I don't think so." Fawn held out her hand. "I'm Fawn Trager."

Fawn noticed that the smile on Sheriff Roosevelt's face didn't quite reach his eyes as he took her hand in his powerful grip. "Can I assume you're a relative of Alexander Trager?"

"That would be the correct assumption. I'm his daughter."

"Well, I'm glad that you're here. I'm sure that you share my concern about finding out exactly what happened to your father. This is a small town and we take attacks against our citizens very seriously, especially when one of those citizens shows up at St. Thomas with four gunshot wounds."

Fawn nodded as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the door. "That's good to know. It certainly puts my mind at ease knowing that the police take the well-being of _all_ citizens so seriously. I'm sure my father will appreciate your concern when I tell him about your visit."

The smile instantly faded from Roosevelt's face. "Well, I think it's best if I tell him myself. I understand that he just regained consciousness."

"That's exactly right, Sheriff," Fawn confirmed. "He _just_ came to. He's being seen by his doctor now and I'm afraid it's going to be some time before he'll be in any condition to see anyone other than family."

"See now, that's a problem. I have a job to do, young lady and if my department is expected to track down the person or persons responsible for almost killing Mr. Trager, then I'm going to need access to the victim." Roosevelt insisted.

"And I appreciate the predicament you find yourself in, sir and please know that I have no desire to interfere with your ability to get justice for my father. My first priority, however, is to see my father make a full recovery. I'm sure that his doctor will agree with me that it's best if he focuses all of his energies at this moment on getting better." Fawn smiled confidently. "I'm sure that if you give my father a couple of days to recover from the initial trauma, he would be happy to meet with you and tell you whatever it is you need to know."

"Well, you certainly seem _prepared_ ," Roosevelt eyed Tiki, who was now hovering by the door near Fawn. "To shield your father from any further harm, Ms. Trager."

"Absolutely." Fawn held out her hand. "I want to thank you for stopping by. If you have a card, I'll be happy to give you a call once my Dad is ready to talk with you."

Giving her a crooked grin, the Sheriff pulled out a card from his pocket and handed to her without comment. "I'll respect your wishes, Ms. Trager. For now. l look forward to hearing from you." Roosevelt said as he backed up before turning away and heading back in the direction he had come.

Tiki cocked his head at Fawn as she watched the Sheriff turn the corner. "You're not related to Tig." He said assertively, a hint of suspicion in his hazel eyes.

Fawn spun around. "Huh?"

Tiki grinned. "You are _way_ too fuckin' rational to be related to that psycho." He snarked.

"Sometimes," Fawn smiled prettily. "Even I have my good days."


	4. Just Like Dear Old Dad

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

It had been a pretty tiring first day for Fawn in Charming. It seemed as if she had been on a constant rollercoaster of emotion since the moment she had received news about her father's near-death experience.

Her frantic journey through bad weather from Seattle was quickly followed by extreme culture shock after being thrust into the MC world—a pretty new and somewhat fucked-up environment bordering on the stone age. In less than 24 hours, Fawn had gone from the comfort of her somewhat normal life to worrying about a father she hasn't spoken to in about a year, to verbally sparing with both the surly SAMCRO VP _and_ his old hag of a girlfriend, and straight into a confrontation with law enforcement in the form of Sheriff Roosevelt. All in all, Fawn was feeling mentally twisted up and strung out.

Having her father come back to the land of the living sooner than anyone had expected gave Fawn a measure of relief and comfort, allowing her to hope that, along with Tig's full recovery, they would have the opportunity to finally make things right with each other. Dr. McNamara, for one, was extremely pleased that Tig had come out of his coma so quickly, especially after suffering a heart attack while in surgery.

Tig, however, was lucid and wide awake only periodically. For the most part, he had been in and out of sleep throughout the day, with Fawn refusing to leave his side. Sticking close by had allowed her the opportunity to see first hand just how much her father was admired and loved by his outlaw family as a number of his brothers managed to sneak into ICU to see him.

Remembering Jax Teller's orders, Fawn had spent the morning and most of the afternoon at her father's bedside without a break. No one who was not affiliated with the Club or the hospital was getting past her, especially if their intention was to question Tig about the events that had landed him in the Intensive Care Unit. With her father dozing so much, Fawn was glad that Jax had ordered several patches to stay by her side as she watched over Tig.

Especially since one of them was Tiki Munson.

In spite of his constant need to flirt with her, Fawn was quickly coming to like the young biker. Out of all of the Sons she had met so far, she felt the most comfortable with Tiki. He seemed to have the same laid back demeanor of his old man, putting Fawn quickly at ease the way Bobby had at the Clubhouse. The fact that Tig had sponsored the young man and that Tiki seemed to admire the Sergeant-at-Arms made him the obvious perfect choice for her to use as her sounding board. With as many questions and frustrations she had as far as the Club was concerned, she needed someone she could bleed for information. As far as Fawn could tell, the Prez was much too busy to deal with her multitude of queries and his VP was just too grumpy for her to remain civil long enough to ask a decent question.

Sitting in two chairs right outside her father's room after getting kicked out by nurses who were changing the dressing on Tig's wounds, Fawn figured that, even though she had only known him for a day, now was as good a time as any to start pumping the young patch for information on the Club.

"Tiki, can I run something by you?"

Tiki flashed a wicked and flirty grin. "Girl, you've been running through my mind all day. Whassup?"

Fawn chuckled as she rolled her eyes at the grinning biker. "It's a good thing you're cute because your game could use some work. That line's probably older than your daddy."

"Hey, the classics have yet to let me down." Tiki smirked knowingly. "What can I do you for?"

Fawn propped her chin in her hand as she eyed him through narrowed eyes. "Well, even though Tig's been a member forever, I'm a little clueless about the whole Club thing. My parents separated shortly after Dad moved down here to join SAMCRO when my sister and I were pretty young, so our exposure to this life, generally speaking, was pretty limited. I'm not as savvy as I would like to be about Club protocol and, in case you haven't heard, I've already had a couple of run-ins with one of your brothers and some old hag down at the Clubhouse."

"Fawn, you've only been here—" Tiki started protesting, but Fawn waved him away.

"I know, I know. Barely a day and I'm already starting shit. Don't ever underestimate a Trager's ability to piss people off." She replied cheekily. "That's why I need a little guidance and I figured, since you seem close to my Dad, maybe you wouldn't mind mentoring me so I don't come off as totally clueless all the time. The last thing I want is to pull any more stupid shit that could be problematic for Dad."

Tiki pursed his lips and thought about what Fawn was saying for a moment. Suddenly, his face brightened as he cracked a beaming smile. "So what, I'd kinda be a Yoda to your Luke?" He snarked.

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I guess you can look at it like that. You're way hotter than he is, though." She flirted.

Tiki winked at her. "You too, darlin'." _Damn_! Tiki cursed his luck that the hottest piece of trim to hit the Clubhouse in a long time had to be related to Tig Trager. He wouldn't mind pressing up on that shit, but he had grown accustomed to breathing and wasn't quite ready to give it up just yet. "A'ight. I can give you a little guidance here and there, but I have to warn you up front. There are just some things that—"

"You can't discuss with me." Fawn nodded. "I managed to pick up that much when I first hit town. Not a problem."

"Good. What do you wanna to know?"

Fawn bit her lip as she tried to pick her words wisely, but once again, her mouth beat her brain to the punch. "What's up with all the skanks down at the Clubhouse? You boys running a brothel or something?"

Tiki's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, not what I was expecting." He couldn't help but laugh. "That's an interesting question and the short answer is no, we're not running a brothel."

"So, what, are they old ladies?" Fawn asked.

"The ones at the Clubhouse last night?" Tiki asked.

Fawn nodded. "And this morning."

Tiki chuckled. "Oh hell's no. Most old ladies were here yesterday and left before you arrived. Anyone at the Clubhouse last night was there to party. Those are croweaters."

Remembering what Colleen had told her, Fawn quickly put it together. "Okay, so these _croweaters_ basically just hang around the Clubhouse to party, like biker groupies, opening beers and sucking dick?"

Tiki laughed. He was genuinely starting to like Tig's daughter. She had no filter whatsoever. "Basically." He replied. "Not all of us have or want old ladies, but that doesn't mean we don't wanna get laid."

"'Nuff said. I totally get the benefits of a no-strings-attached deal." Fawn smiled as Tiki gave her a look that said maybe they could work something out. "Nah, playa, let's keep this mentorship strictly platonic."

"Playing hard to get. I like that." Tiki teased.

 _Another time, another place_ , Fawn thought with a smirk. _And you wouldn't know what to do with me_. After one too many disastrous _casual_ relationships, Fawn was determined to hold out for something a little more permanent and committed. She had a tendency to fall hard and fast for the bad boys and leather and Harleys were definitely a bad combination for her self-imposed celibacy.

"I can see why the Club lets them hang around," Fawn started. "But how do these women benefit from being passed around like a fat joint? No offense."

Tiki ran his hand over the stubble on his face. "The Club's like a family and family looks out and takes care of each other, and that includes the croweaters. They actually do a bit more than just fuck us on the regular. They take care of us—especially those without old ladies—in and out of the Clubhouse. Shit, I haven't done my own laundry since I patched in." Tiki explained as Fawn looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "Shit, that sounds a bit one-sided, don't it?" He asked and Fawn nodded. "It's not. Being a croweater gives them a connection to the MC and opens the door for other opportunities when they take care of the needs of the brothers. They take care of us, we take care of them."

Tiki felt his face heating up and knew he was blushing. The knowledge of who croweaters were and what they did had been a part of his life experience since he could remember. He had never really considered how these women were treated in the Clubhouse to be a big deal. After all, both parties benefited from the relationship and, as far as SAMCRO was concerned, it was always consensual, but having to break it down for Fawn was making him feel like a pig. It was actually a little embarrassing.

As Tiki went on to explain the difference between croweaters and sweetbutts, Fawn shook her head. To her mind, there wasn't a difference. They were all whores.

"And the old ladies don't have a problem with these women hanging around their men because I'm pretty sure my mother did?"

"Some do and some get away with putting their foot down. For others, as long as they're not slapped in the face with the knowledge that their old men are banging croweaters, they tolerate having them around. Besides, a good old lady knows the difference between what they have with their men and meaningless sex." Tiki explained, not convinced that Fawn was buying any of it. "Some croweaters, though, push boundaries by rocking the boat sometimes. They tend to get pretty territorial about the patches, especially the single ones. I will be the first to admit that _I_ am something of a Club favorite." He grinned wickedly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Fawn laughed. Then it dawned on her. "Oh, that explains why that ho-bag was all in my face this morning." As Fawn filled the young patch in on her morning meet-and-greet with the whore sporting the cheap dye job, he shook his head.

"Sounds like Emily." He said.

"Well, the bitch is ancient. Isn't there like an expiration date on these women, preferably before they get old and tired?" Fawn asked sarcastically.

"Hey, there are actually a few hotties on the lot. You just haven't met them yet." Tiki replied. "And Emily's not so bad once you get to know her. She's pretty popular at the Friday night after-Church parties. Lately though, she's been gravitating towards Ope, which might explain why she got in your face this morning."

"Humph! Judging by my preempted bitch smack down, I kind of figured that was the case. I can't believe he would touch that old bag with somebody else's dick, let alone his own."

Tiki shrugged, surprised by the venom in Fawn's voice. "Ope's been through a lot of shit." The young patch was reluctant to say anything more. Over the last three years, the VP had managed to come to terms with the tragedy that had taken his old lady, but he was far from the family man that Tiki remembered from his youth. Even though it was obvious that Opie loved his kids, he kept his family life and his Club life completely separate, allowing him to indulge in the women available while shielding his teenaged children from the realities of the Life.

Fawn's brow furrowed as she considered Tiki's comment, wondering if this _shit_ had anything to do with her father.

"Like what?" She asked. From the look on his face, Fawn realized that she had touched upon at least one of the subjects that were off-limits and not up for discussion with her. Putting her hands up, she said, "Hey, you don't have to answer that. I don't want you to get in trouble for breaking any confidences or secret handshakes." She tried to laugh it off.

But Tiki had a serious look on his face. "I can't get into it. All I can say is that Opie is a tough guy to know. He's gone through some stuff, but hopefully one day, things will get better for him." He explained. "Look, bottom line, just don't take any shit from any of the croweaters from the jump and you'll be fine. You may not be an old lady, but your father is a patch and there's a level of respect that's owed to you. Just let them know who you are, don't tolerate any bullshit and they'll back off." Tiki stood up. "I could use some coffee. Want some?"

"That would be great. I take it black." Fawn paused. "And Tiki?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for showing me the ropes."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

* * *

Waiting for Tiki to come back with the coffee, Fawn was still sitting outside her father's room when she saw an interesting sight making its way down the hall.

_Well, get a load of this shit._

Fawn crossed her arms as she saw two women making a straight beeline in her direction, and by the way they were dressed, she was as sure as shit that they were coming to see her father.

Fawn eyed the one on the left. Although it was unlikely that she would ever see 40 again, it was obvious that the woman had managed to hold on to her good looks. She had a body that women half her age would envy and was rocking a tight black V-neck sweater and a pair of designer skinny jeans with kick-ass high heels. Her long dark hair streaked with platinum highlights fell in waves over her shoulders. In Fawn's professional opinion, the hair looked thick and healthy, but the cut and look were dated and ill-suited for a woman her age. Her face, while still rather attractive, boasted a few wrinkles that would not have been so noticeable had she used the right foundation. Her make up was slightly overdone as well, but Fawn knew from experience that older women had the tendency to apply their make up with a spatula when less was always more as long as they had the right coverage. _Her rack's not half bad_ , Fawn thought. As a matter of fact, it went a long way in averting one's eyes away from the scar and ugly bird tattoo on her chest.

Fawn frowned as she tried to remember what her mother had told her about what she called "crow tats." It was probably important, but Fawn usually checked out about halfway through a conversation with her mother. The woman couldn't get to a point quick enough if her life depended on it.

Looking from the hot mama to her companion, Fawn was a little taken aback. Shocked was a better way to put it.

 _This must be one of the hottie croweaters that Tiki claimed existed_. And begrudgingly, Fawn had to admit to herself that Tiki hadn't done her justice. _She's stunning._

A couple of inches shorter than her cohort, the young woman had to be in her twenties. Wearing a pair of low-riding jeans and black leather booties, the girl with the luxurious mane of shiny midnight curls and green eyes had an excellent set of Double D's stuffed into a dark blue cropped tank top, which—strangely enough—displayed an almost-similar scar on her chest and the beginnings of another bird tattoo right below her pierced navel. A caramel-colored cropped leather jacket completed her ensemble. To Fawn's trained eye, this one clearly knew how to use make up to enhance her looks. Whatever cosmetics she was wearing—at least some eyeliner, mascara, and a pink-tinged lip gloss—had been expertly applied to appear as if she wasn't wearing any.

 _But shit, I have never seen a pair of mother-daughter whores working it together before_.

Fawn had been forced to let the bitch down at the Clubhouse go without putting her in her place because the SAMCRO VP had seen fit to interfere. Fawn didn't know if the blond hag had spread the word to her other ho-bag friends as to who she was, but she decided to follow Tiki's advice and not take any shit from these two, or anyone else, from the jump. Standing up, Fawn crossed her arms under her chest. Opening her mouth, she came out swinging just as the two women were still several feet away.

"Let me guess," Fawn pointed a finger at the one on the left. "You're the head croweater-in-charge, right?"

Stopping short, her dark eyes wide, the older one nearly choked. "What the fuck?"

"I have to hand it to you, doll. Not being afraid to hang out with a younger model shows you've got the balls to swing it with the younger set. Personally, I hate bitches with low self-esteem issues, so kudos to you." Fawn smiled a mean grin. "Now, I'm new in town, so I have no clue how you rank yourselves—age, experience, don't know, don't care, but judging by the ho that tried giving me shit this morning, you two must be the pick of the litter. I trust that you were sent down here as some sort of 'Get Well Pussy Ambassadors', so please do me a favor and pass along a message to your other friends."

Fawn heard the younger one mutter angrily under her breath, but stopped her with a wave of her hand.

"It's really nice of you two to stop by to see my Dad. I'm sure it would really cheer him up, but you see, he really isn't up to any of the fun and games you might have in mind. I mean, the most that you could prolly do for him would be a hand job, _maybe_ a B.J." Looking at the younger one, Fawn continued. "And you look like you could probably suck a mean dick, but with his bad leg, I don't recommend it. I really hate being the cock-blocking bad guy here, but you should really give him at least a month or so to recover. By then, I'm sure he'll be more than ready to party with you two and I promise that I won't stand in your way, but right now, it's not happening. So, I would really appreciate it if you would turn around and go back to the Clubhouse and spread the word. I'm sure there are plenty of other dicks just lining up for you two to play with."

Just then, Tiki came down the hallway with a cup of coffee in each hand. "Hey Fawn, I see you've met Jax's mom and his old lady."

For a moment, Fawn was so convinced she had heard wrong that she almost laughed out loud. But as she made eye contact with the woman who had been the Club's matriarch since the very beginning, Fawn's heart sank in her chest. "Oh shit!"

Gemma Teller-Morrow put her hand on a cocked hip as she watched the color literally drain out of the face of the pretty redhead, who was now leaning against the wall for support, before turning a bright shade of pink.

"Oh, we've met." Gemma grinned at a scowling Jolene Teller. "Come on, baby girl. What did you expect from Tigger's kid?"

* * *

Sitting at the picnic table in the T-M lot, Fawn was still trying to get over her royal screw up involving the women who Tiki said were the two most powerful old ladies in the entire MC.

"I've had hoof-in-mouth disease before, but this little drama is at the top of my shit list of most embarrassing moments." Fawn groused. "I have never been so fuckin' humiliated in all my life."

It was a major miracle that Gemma Teller-Morrow had found the entire episode somewhat hilarious. Her daughter-in-law, however, failed to see the humor in the situation and hadn't found it funny at all. Although Fawn stood at least four inches taller than the young woman in bare feet, it was obvious from the hostility emanating from the tiny thing that Jolene Teller was not intimidated and would have had no problem in beating the shit out of her.

_The little firecracker might have taken me down, too if Tiki hadn't smoothed shit over._

In the end, Gemma had explained that Jax had let them know that Tig had come out of his coma and they had volunteered to come down to the hospital and give Fawn a break from guard duty. Which explained why she was now at the Clubhouse shoving an organic balsamic grilled chicken and avocado sandwich into her face as she tore a strip off of Tiki's ass at the same time.

"My ho-dar has never let me down until today, damnit!" Fawn glared at her so-called new friend. "I think you forgot to mention a few very important facts, Tiki."

Between almost witnessing first hand Jolene's legendary ass-kicking skills and the ass reaming he was getting from Fawn, Tiki considered it a small miracle that he was still standing. "Fawn, I was gone five fuckin' minutes. How you managed to piss off probably the coolest, most level-headed old lady on the planet in such a short period of time is something I kinda wish I had witnessed." Tiki stated with a barely concealed smile. "I thought only Tig possessed the ability to get under people's skin so quickly, but like father, like daughter I guess."

Fawn threw her hands in the air. "Why does everybody keep saying that shit?" She growled.

"Why? Because I thought Dawn was the real nut job until you blew into town. Turns out she only looks crazy like your dad." Tiki snarked.

Fawn blinked as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "You know Dawn?"

Tiki nodded as he took a gulp from his bottle of beer. "I met her crazy ass last year when she showed up out of the blue." He explained. "She may be Tig's spitting image, but that's where any similarities end. I mean, Tig may be a lot of things—most of them not good—but he doesn't have a dishonest bone in his body. I can't say the same about your sister. I'm sorry if I'm overstepping, but it's the truth."

"You're not overstepping." Fawn assured him quietly. "So you know about how she—"

"Squeezed Tig for $12,000 because _you_ needed to go to rehab? Yeah."

"Fuck, is nothing secret around here?" Fawn fumed.

"A lot of things are secret," Tiki replied, taking another swig of his beer. "Family drama ain't one of them."

Fawn ate a couple of veggie chips. "How did Tig react to the fact that he'd been conned?"

"I don't know if you can say he was conned, especially since he knew from the jump that she was bullshitting him." Tiki said. "I was surprised he gave her the money, but he never explained why he did it."

"Yeah, I was surprised when I heard about it, too." Fawn responded, still feeling the sting of hurt the whole situation had caused her. In fact, that whole Dawn-Rehab drama had been one of the reasons why she hadn't spoken to her father in over a year. "Some times it's kinda hard to figure my Dad out."

"Some times? Shit, I've gotten to know him pretty good over the past three years and even I don't know what's rolling around in his head half the time. I don't think anybody does."

"Yeah, I get that." Fawn said.

Suddenly losing her appetite, she rolled up her half-eaten sandwich and got up to toss it in the garbage can behind the picnic table. Climbing onto the table next to Tiki, she picked up her bottle of water and gulped half of it down as the young biker watched her intently, his head cocked to the side.

Feeling self-conscious, Fawn ran her hand over her face in case she had food stuck to it. "What?" She asked.

"If you don't mind me asking," He started, his voice soft. "Why would your sister say you needed to go to rehab?"

Fawn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She probably figured Dad would have no problem believing I had relapsed over whatever lame excuse she had for needing the money," Fawn replied looking Tiki straight in his hazel eyes. "Because once a junkie, always a junkie."

Tiki quirked an eyebrow at her. "You? Really?"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Long story." She replied in a manner that gave Tiki the sense that it wasn't up for discussion.

Gently grabbing her left hand, Tiki ran his fingers over the small black "X" tattooed on the back of her hand close to her thumb. "Is that what this is about?"

Fawn raised her eyebrows. "A biker that knows about Straight Edge?"

"I'm just full of surprises, sweetheart." Tiki smiled. "I don't practice it myself, but I've heard of it."

"Well, technically, the tat is all that's left of my hardcore Straight Edge punk days." Fawn smiled. "I got clean at 18, joined the movement, and it saved my life. Leaving drugs and alcohol behind wasn't easy for me, but I've been clean and sober for 10 years. Now the tat's just a reminder to stay that way everyday." Fawn explained. "Dawn used the darkest, lowest point of my life to get money out of my Dad and the asshole willingly gave it to her."

"I'm sensing that was a problem for ya."

"Hell's yeah! But not because he gave her the money. He took her word for it, never bothering to pick up the phone and checking in with me." Fawn said vehemently, her blue eyes practically crackling with electricity.

It was just one of the many things that she and her father were going to have to hash out once Tig got sprung from St. Thomas. As Tiki eyed Tig's daughter, her body language pretty much said it all.

_Tig might be better off staying in the hospital._

* * *

Downing the rest of her bottled water, Fawn let out a not-so-quiet burp once Tiki was out of earshot, having been summoned into the Clubhouse by Filthy Phil, a ginormous and curly-haired Club member. Leaning against the picnic table, she stretched her long legs encased in skin tight leggings as she watched the bustling activity on the lot with Rocco at her side.

In spite of the fact that it was mid-March and pushing late afternoon, the California sun was still warming up the day, something Fawn found wonderfully pleasant when she considered the dreary weather she had left behind in Seattle. With the crisp early spring breeze blowing through her hair, and after being cooped up in the claustrophobic and antiseptic walls of St. Thomas at her father's bedside all morning and most of the afternoon, she decided it was the perfect weather and time of day for a walk.

Fawn reached over and scratched Rocco's ears, who in turn whined with pleasure. "What do ya say, boy? Wanna take a stroll around the block?" Letting out a series of loud barks, Rocco totally understood and whole-heartedly agreed with his mistress.

Gathering Rocco's leash in her fist, Fawn was about to stand up when she heard the loud roar of yet another bike pulling into the lot. Having had a chance to check out some of the bikes parked in a long line outside the Clubhouse up close, her eyes grinned in appreciation as she noted the beautiful and powerful teal bike and its rider, a huge but obviously very young man.

Fawn almost guffawed as another young man followed the powerful motorcycle onto the lot as he furiously pumped his legs on a custom-made dirt bike. Straining to keep up, the second rider was younger, shorter and slimmer than the first. Amused by the somewhat familiar pair, Fawn watched as the two young men parked their rides.

Jumping off his ride, Kenny Winston whipped off his helmet, the slight breeze ruffling his shoulder-length strawberry blond hair around an attractive face sporting the beginnings of a scraggly mustache. "Shit, man. I was sure I lost you on that last corner." He grinned at his best friend.

"You did, asshole!" Abel Teller grumbled as he tried to get his breathing under control. "When are you gonna remember that I'm riding a dirt bike, not a fuckin' Harley?"

"Prolly never." Kenny laughed as he slapped his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Which is as long as it will take before you ever get your ass on that Sportster." He was about to rib his friend some more when his eyes narrowed appreciatively. "Well, damn, what do we have here?"

Abel turned and followed his friend's gaze to a tall and willowy redhead sitting at the picnic table with what had to be a miniature horse at her side. "No clue, but damn, she's hot." He exclaimed as he started walking towards the Clubhouse.

"Uh, yeah, she is," Kenny grabbed Abel by the collar of his jacket and pulled him back to his side. "And I saw her first, so I got dibs."

Abel laughed at his overly-confident friend. "Like you'd have a chance in hell of getting with that."

"Watch and learn, my brother. Watch and learn."

With a slight smile curling her lips, Fawn tried to pretend she didn't notice as the two young men swaggered across the lot, heading in her direction. The taller of the two, topping her own height of 5'9 by a couple of inches, was wearing jeans, steel-toed boots and a black leather jacket. Similarly dressed, Fawn could tell even from a distance that his younger sidekick, a real cutie pie with shoulder-length blond hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, had bright and beautiful green eyes.

"Uh-oh, Rocco," Fawn chuckled. "I'm about to get hit on by a pair of mini-bikers. This might be the highlight of my day, so be nice to them, okay, boy?"

Not normally at all partial to the males of the human species, Rocco wasn't prepared to make any promises as he eyed the two young men.

"That's a big dog you have there." The larger of the two young men flashed a mega-watt smile at her.

"I'm a big girl. I like big things." Fawn replied. "No crime in that, right?"

"The only crime I see is a beautiful young woman sitting out here all by herself."

Fawn couldn't help herself and laughed. "I have to say, I wasn't expecting someone as young as you to be so smooth with the come-ons."

"It's all in the delivery, baby. The name's Kenny, by the way."

"It's nice meeting you, Kenny." Fawn smiled. "And who's your friend?"

Moving to Fawn's left, the younger boy looked down at her. "I'm Abel and please don't judge me by the company I keep. You won't be hearing any of the old and tired lines my friend's trying to push on you coming from me. Don't get me wrong. You're hot as hell," He flashed her wide grin. "But my Dad says complementing a woman on looks alone is not enough."

 _Actually, he said it's a good start if your only goal was getting her to drop her panties_ , Abel thought roguishly. _But no sense in sharing that bit of Intel_.

Fawn nearly hooted. _The little one certainly has tons of swagger—and a familiar smile_.

"Oh, really? What else does a man have to do to get a woman's attention?" She egged him on.

Abel sat down and gave the woman a direct look. "Flattery's the easy way. My old man says if you wanna get and keep a woman's attention, you must be a gentleman at all times."

 _Holy shit_. "Your 'old man' wouldn't happen to be Jax Teller, would he?"

"Yeah, that's my Dad. You know him?"

"Oh, I do indeed." Fawn smiled wryly. _The_ _apple sure didn't fall far from that charming tree, now did it_? "And is this your older brother?"

"Oh, we're brothers, all right, just from another mother. Opie Winston's my Dad."

 _What the fuck? Opie's married?!_ Fawn felt a flutter of disappointment in the pit of her stomach. So taken aback by the thought that the taciturn and ornery outlaw biker had actually managed to get with a woman and produce spawn, Fawn was unable to come back with a reply when his son decided to up the ante.

"If you know the Prez, you must know my Dad, too. He's a pretty great guy, but way too old for you. Me, on the other hand, I'm the new and improved version." Kenny said cockily.

"Unlike her old man, I don't think Tig's daughter is into jail bait." All three gave a little jump as they turned towards the deep and somewhat amused tenor voice of the SAMCRO VP.

"Uh, hey, Dad. We were just shooting the shit with—" Kenny started, then stopped. "Tig's daughter?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Shit, I guess I never did get around to introducing myself," Fawn said, an amused glint in her deep blue eyes. "I'm Fawn. I'm sure you'll be hearing all about me soon enough." She directed at Abel, thinking of her run-in with the boy's grandmother and mother at the hospital earlier.

"I think you're done trying to push up on the Club enforcer's kid, so hurry up and get your asses into the garage and start working." Opie chastised.

 _And leave the big game hunting to the real men_.

"Uh, sure, Dad." Kenny grinned knowingly. He could see how his father was watching Fawn when she wasn't looking. Motioning to Abel, the two started towards the bay. Turning to take one last long and appreciative glance at Fawn, he called out with a wink, "Catch you later, Pretty Eyes."

"Oh, my, he's just too precious for his own damn good, isn't he?" Fawn couldn't help but snicker as Opie shook his head at his retreating sons.

"Yeah. That boy seems to have his heart set on being the death of me, too." Opie replied wryly.

"Sure is proof though that charm isn't an inherited quality, huh?" Fawn said offhandedly and then winced.

 _Damn it, bitch! Not every thought needs to be said out loud_ , Fawn's inner voice chastised her.

Hoping her snarkiness went unnoticed, Fawn's blue eyes peeped at Opie through her lashes.

It hadn't.

"Oh, there's no doubt my boy gets all his charm from his old man. He just hasn't learned when to unleash it on the _right_ woman yet." Opie rolled out smoothly. Hearing Fawn hiss in anger, Opie grinned inwardly.

 _Boy, getting under her skin is really easy_.

But Fawn could give as good as she got.

"Oh, I'm definitely the right woman," Fawn replied as she stood up, grasping her dog's leash in her right hand. "Too bad you'll never have the pleasure of finding that out for yourself." She retorted, and having the last word, turned her back on the Club's VP as she strode off.

His eyes riveted on the perfect roundness of her ass, Opie watched as the woman sashayed out of the lot with her pony galloping in her wake. Opie suddenly grinned.

_Fawn, baby, that's one pleasure you won't be denying me for too long._


	5. Exit Interview

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

"So when am I gonna get sprung, Doc?" Tig's eyes nearly bore a hole into his doctor as the man scribbled notes into his patient's file. "The food is shitty and I wanna go home."

"Dad," Fawn ground out. "Mind your fuckin' manners, will ya?" Seeing Dr. McNamara's eyes twinkle at her, she shrugged her shoulders in embarrassment. "Please excuse me. Hanging out with my father seems to bring out the worst in me."

"Bullshit!" Tig argued. "You get that potty mouth from your gash of a mother."

"Highly unlikely, asshole." Fawn shot back.

Dr. McNamara covered his mouth and coughed in an effort to disguise a surprised chuckle. Over the past two weeks, he had seen these two go at it like cats and dogs. "I don't mean to interrupt yet _another_ family discussion, but Mr. Trager, you still have a long way to go before you are completely recovered."

"Which means your ass is staying put." Fawn started, but pulled back as the doctor gave her a raised eyebrow.

"May I continue?"

"Of course, doctor." Fawn agreed, quickly turning her head slightly to stick her tongue out at her father.

"I believe a few more days of recuperating here in St. Thomas are warranted—"

"Ah, c'mon." Tig's voice was one step away from being a full out whine and had increased in volume as he dragged out the syllable. "I've been here ten days already—"

"And a few more days will only go that much farther in improving your health, Mr. Trager. You have a long road to a full recovery ahead of you. Even after you're discharged, you won't be able to get around on your own and you will need at-home assistance for at least a couple of months." Dr. McNamara explained. "You require a good deal of rehab before your hip is anywhere near fully functional. Not only will you need help with your day-to-day necessities, but you will need someone to administer your pain management. Ms. Trager, can I assume that you will be handling his outpatient care?"

"No." Tig said. "Yes." Fawn replied at the same time.

"What the fuck do you mean 'no'?" Fawn demanded, her arms crossed over her chest.

" _No_ as in I can handle my own shit." Tig insisted. "Besides, don't you have to get your ass back to Seattle? Please, like today."

"Don't be an idiot." She retorted. "Handle your own shit? You couldn't wipe your own ass now if you tried."

Dr. McNamara stood and watched as father and daughter once again started arguing back and forth, the sparks shooting out of their eyes as they continued their increasingly loud debate. Thinking that he might have to call for backup in the form of a couple of orderlies to break it up, it was the daughter who finally managed to get the upper hand.

"Doctor, my father's refusing my help." Fawn addressed Dr. McNamara while looking Tig in the eye. "Is there a nursing home you can stick his ass in until he gets better? Preferably one where they beat their patients."

"You wouldn't." Tig growled.

"Try me." Fawn dared.

The doctor cleared his throat. "I could make arrangements to have him transferred to an _excellent_ rehab facility in Stockton for the duration."

"Hear that, asshole? Two months in a rehab hospital with nothing but strangers to change your diapers. You'd prefer that over having your own daughter take care of you? You're already flipping out because the doctor wants you to stay in St. Thomas for a few more days." Fawn put her hand on her hip as she looked at her disgruntled father.

"Damn it, Fawn!" Tig said through gritted teeth. "You sound so much like your mother you're giving me a fuckin' headache."

"You mean I'm making good sense while you come across like an ungrateful SOB?"

"No, I mean you sound like a whiny, nagging bitch." At his daughter's angry gasp, Tig knew he had taken it too far and decided it was time to cave in. "Alright already! Damn! Stay if you wanna. I don't give a shit." He said petulantly.

Inwardly, Tig sighed in contentment. _I think I made enough of a fuss._

The fact was Tig couldn't be happier that Fawn was insisting on taking care of him. After not seeing his youngest for two years, Fawn had abruptly stopped talking to him a little over a year ago. Convinced that her mother had finally gotten to her, Tig had resigned himself to staying out of his daughter's life if that was what she wanted. He had already done enough damage while she had been growing up. If she was happier having no contact with her fuck-up of an old man, the least Tig could do was give her that peace of mind by staying away. The fact that Fawn was in Charming and fighting to exercise her rights as his daughter was a better gift than waking up alive as far as Tig was concerned.

As Dr. McNamara looked at the angry, but triumphant expression on Fawn Trager's face, he didn't know who he felt sorrier for, his patient or his new caregiver.

* * *

Fawn grinned to herself as she exited her father's room.

With Tig doped up most of the time due to the excruciating pain in his hip, Fawn had let her guard down around her father. She should have known that once he was lucid and alert again that they would be back at each other's throats. The irony was that having him bitch at her again had made her the happiest she's felt in over a year.

The Tragers were not a conventional family. Being polite and civil to each other usually meant something was really wrong. The more they bickered and the harsher the word bombs they lobbed at each other the closer they felt. Sick? Yeah, and maybe a little twisted, but what's to be expected when your childhood hero, the first man you loved, your father had a hard time expressing heartfelt emotions? Fawn was convinced that the expression " _actions speak louder than words_ " had been coined just for her father. He may not have a way with words, but he was always there for his family.

 _Until the one day he wasn't_.

Shaking her head, Fawn decided to put her emotional baggage concerning Dear Old Dad on the backburner for the time being. Digging her cell phone out of her bag, she decided to bite the bullet and take care of a couple of issues back home before she moved onto the task of making arrangements for Tig's homecoming in a few days.

Hitting one of her speed dials, Fawn paced back and forth in the hospital corridor until her call was finally answered.

" _Dah-ling, how's your father and when the hell are you getting out of Mayberry? I need you back desperately."_ Languid French-accented tones drawled over the phone.

"Hi, Sasha. My Dad's on the mend and getting better every day. Thanks for asking. How are things at the Salon?"

Sasha Fogeron, the debonair owner of _Flip It_ , replied, _"The Salon is missing you, Cherie. Marisol is having a difficult time rebooking your clients with other stylists. They are all insisting on waiting for your return, so when are you coming back home to me?"_

Fawn bit her lip as she eyed her phone. There was no way of dancing around it, she was going to have blow shit up over the wire. "That's why I'm calling. My Dad is getting out of the hospital in a few days, but he needs a lot of at-home care, so I can't come back to Seattle just yet."

In the blink of an eye, Sasha's soft French accent was snuffed out as his Brooklyn, New York roots grabbed hold. _"Whaddaya tawkin' bout? Ya know I need your ass here!"_ Charles Smith shouted.

Fawn winced. She had only ever heard him drop his faux-French routine once and he had been royally pissed off at her as well at the time. In her mind's eye she could see him raking his elegant and well-manicured hand through his ultra-chic blond hair styled to emulate the tousled look of someone who had just rolled out of bed.

"Sasha! Sasha!" Fawn tried to get his attention over his loud ranting and raving as he continued to heap abuse and threats of doing her bodily harm. "Chaz!"

"Oh Gawd!" Sasha quickly stopped his rant. "Bitch, you know bettah than to call me that!"

"Sasha, I really need you to cut me some slack. You know I hate doing this to you, especially on such short notice," Fawn started before he got a second wind. "But this is my father we're talking about. Besides, I cancelled my last planned vacation two years ago at the last minute because you needed me."

After almost half a minute of silence, Fawn could hear Sasha sigh dramatically. _"Well shit, I guess you gotta do what you gotta do. How much time do ya think you'll need?"_

Fawn smiled to herself. _Damn, he must be back on the Midol for him to stop PMS'ing so fast_. "At least a month. Maybe longer." She replied and waited for the next inevitable explosion.

" _I can't believe you're gonna leave me to personally deal with that hoity-toity clientele of yours._ " He growled. _"You realize that nobody else but you can get away with this shit."_

Fawn gave a sigh of relief. "That's because I'm the best, _dah-ling, and you know it_." She purred. "I'll be back as soon as I possibly can. I promise. Please don't be mad at me for keeps."

" _Ah fuhgeddaboudit, you damn heifer. You know I love ya. You just bettah get your ass back here soon."_ And without saying good-bye, Sasha hung up on her.

Scrolling through her contacts for the next call, Fawn spent the next hour tracking down the Super of her apartment building and then her next door neighbor Mrs. Berenstein, who had finally returned from her Tuesday afternoon Mahjong game at the Senior Center. Fawn knew that she was taking a risk asking the elderly woman to retrieve her mail and packages while she was away. Mrs. Berenstein had a habit of making Fawn's business her own, but out of all the ladies in the building who took perverse pleasure in trying to hook her up with their grandsons, she liked the feisty old widow the best.

The last item on her list was contacting her best friend.

Hitting the speed dial on her cell phone, Fawn bounced her foot up and down impatiently waiting for the line to pick up. Just as she was figuring she was going to have to leave her another message, Tina finally picked up the phone.

" _I was just thinking about you," Tina huffed. "I was starting to think that I would never hear your voice in real time again, only through a bunch of extremely short voice-mails and a couple of texts."_

"Well, bitch, ever hear of picking up the phone when it rings?" Fawn retorted. "It's not like I haven't tried." She heard her friend's exasperated sigh.

" _Oh, alright. I know and I'm sorry. It's been a hell of a day here at the Salon. And now something major has just crawled straight up Sasha's ass to die. He's in a bad fuckin' mood."_

"I may have something to do with that." Fawn admitted as she bit the cuticle of her thumbnail.

" _Yeah, well, before you tell me what you did, why don't you tell me how ya doing? How's Daddy Dearest?"_

Fawn ran her fingers through her hair. "He's doing well, making progress, but it's gonna be a while before he's fully recovered."

" _Honey, I'm just so happy for you that he pulled through. That sounded like some really bad shit that went down."_

"Yeah, I'd be happy too if he wasn't such an ass, Tina." Fawn growled. "Everything's a fight with that man. Practically had to beg him to let me take care of him while he recuperates."

" _A-ha! And the missing piece falls into place. That explains why Sasha's about to birth a cow in the middle of a Keratin treatment, huh?"_

"Yeah, I told him that I was staying in Charming for another month. It'll actually be more like two, but I had enough sense not to drop that on him just yet." Fawn replied.

" _Good looking out 'cause he's been on the rampage ever since you took off. Sasha's just gonna have to live with it. Your Dad needs you now and, believe it or not, you need him, too, in spite of all your 'daddy' issues."_

Fawn made an exasperated sound. "Tina, don't start that shit with me now."

" _Why the hell not? I've been up your ass to get in touch with your father ever since that shit blew up with your sister and her scam. If it didn't hurt you so much to be estranged from him, you wouldn't have_ _told me any of that shit_ _, and you know how I feel about that stuff. You knew I wasn't gonna let it go."_ Tina was all about family, especially since she had none left of her own.

"It's just that I have so much shit I need to get off my chest and I honestly don't know how we're supposed to reconcile when Tig's not the most forthcoming with his feelings." Fawn sighed. "But you're right. Now that I have this second chance with him, I'm not gonna waste it."

" _Good, then me missing you like crazy up here is gonna be all worthwhile. You know you're the only young chicken head I can tolerate in this place."_

"Hey, don't hate on us chicken heads just 'cause you let yourself turn into an old broad." Fawn teased.

At 53, Tina was a goodhearted woman with very little time or sympathy for women who couldn't get their shit together. Having survived her own nightmare of a youth ill-spent, Fawn had met the spunky woman on her first day at _Flip It!_ eight years ago. Tina had taken her under her wing and they quickly became good friends. In a lot of ways, Fawn felt closer to Tina than she did her own mother. Not that she would ever tell Tina that, or Fawn's next step would be a trip to Oregon to make things good with Colleen.

" _I will never be an 'old broad'." Tina said exasperated. "I've still got it. I just have a hell of a lot more sense to go along with it now."_

"Well, I need that good head on your shoulders to hook me up. I've got all of four days' worth of clothes I've been wearing since I got here. Can you do me a favor?"

Before Tina could reply, Fawn went on to outline a huge undertaking she needed taken care of. Namely, Fawn needed her friend to pack a shitload of boxes with her clothes, shoes and accessories, and everything else she might need to make her stay comfortable and ship it all to Charming. With Tina's motherly instinct kicking into high gear, she even offered to clean out her fridge and tidy up her two-bedroom apartment, as long as Fawn promised to do a better job of staying in touch.

"I knew I could count on ya." Fawn said sincerely.

" _You know I'll always be here for you." Tina replied. "Okay, now that we've gone through all the serious and important stuff, I need a good laugh. Tell me, who have you managed to piss off in the last couple of weeks? I have to warn you, it's a small town, so you might want to pace yourself."_

"What makes you think I've pissed anyone off?" Fawn asked petulantly as she stuck her tongue out at Tina's picture on her phone.

" _Because you're breathing, aren't ya?" Tina laughed. "It's actually an endearing quality, that pissiness of yours. You confuse people—they don't know if they want to kiss you or throttle the shit out of you—especially the opposite sex."_

"You think you're so smart." Fawn snarked.

" _Never claimed to have two brain cells I could rub together, but I do know you and your ability to stick your foot in it."_

"Oh, all right, you damn heifer." Fawn sighed exasperated. "I did manage to rub a few people the wrong way, but I've been good for over a week now since I barely leave my father's side. At this point, I don't really care if I piss _him_ off."

" _I knew it. So what was the damage?"_

"Well, I insulted two well-placed old ladies by confusing them for Club whores or, as these bikers call them, croweaters." Fawn rolled her eyes as she was greeted by her friend's bawdy belly laughter.

" _Oh my, eating crow sounds like fun! Have you eaten some crow lately? And by that, I mean in the literal sense, not proverbially." Tina said snarkily._

"Tina, I've been here ten days. I'm not the town bicycle that everybody gets to ride, you know. Besides, that mess with the old ladies wasn't really my fault. My over-protectiveness kicked into high gear, that's all." Fawn explained. "And I may have had some unresolved aggression bottled up because I was kept from clocking the real croweater who tried to run me out of the fuckin' Clubhouse. I would have too if it hadn't been for that damn patch." She fumed.

" _Uh-oh," Fawn could actually hear Tina grinning. "I knew there had to be a man involved somewhere. So who's the Big Fella?"_

Fawn blustered. "What the fuck are you talking about? There's no man involved."

_Tina laughed outright. Fawn could picture her on the brink of falling out of her salon chair. "Bullshit, there's always a man involved. You're young, beautiful, and crashing in a Clubhouse full of horny bikers, so no sense in trying to pull one over on me. Who's the biker that has you all hot and bothered?"_

"Uh, I—you know what? I don't have time to talk about nonsense." She replied testily. "Look, I have to run. I need to start making arrangements for my Dad, so we're going to have to cut this little hen party short."

" _Okay, okay. I'll back off." Her friend conceded. "For now."_

Fawn grinned in relief as she hung up the phone. _Tina's off her game, reading too much into something that don't exist because there is absolutely nothing at all to tell about Opie Winston._

 _Yet,_ her inner voice piped up.

_Shut up, you little whore!_

Now with all of the essential matters back home taken care of, Fawn made her way to the hospital parking lot towards her car. She would be forever grateful to Tiki for hooking her up with Lowell Harlan. Starting the engine, Fawn grinned as her Buick purred back to life.

Pulling out of the parking lot, she made beeline for the garage. Now she could fully focus on preparations for Tig's convalescence at home.

 _All I need to get started is a co-conspirator_.

* * *

"Hi, Bobby." Fawn rushed into the Clubhouse, her eyes roving about. "Where's Tiki?"

"Hey, honey." Bobby grinned as the young woman blew into the Main Room. "He's back in his dorm."

"Good." Fawn replied as she hurriedly headed towards the last door down the long hallway.

"Hey, uh, Fawn," Bobby called out half-heartedly. "I think he might be a little busy right now." No response, just the clicking of boot heels running on hardwood floors. "Oh well, I tried." Bobby snickered to himself as he poured another cup of coffee. "It'll serve my boy right for never locking his damn door."

Intent on getting to her soon-to-be partner-in-crime, Fawn wasn't paying attention to the sounds coming from the room when she hit the door running. With the door partially open, the force of her careening into it sent it flying wide open and Fawn sprawling onto the floor with a loud thump, face-planting into a pile of recently and hastily discarded clothing. Coming face-to-face with a pair of men's boxer briefs, Fawn turned towards the bed in time to catch a fine and perfectly-formed naked ass stopping in mid-hump as a red-faced Tiki and an equally fresh-faced young blond woman tried in vain to cover up.

"What the FUCK, Fawn?!" Tiki yelled.

_Oh shit!_

* * *

"I said I was sorry," Fawn mumbled. "Even though technically it's not really my fault."

Fawn eyed the pissed off young biker. He wasn't looking anything like the sweet young patch that she could wheedle into giving her Intel on the Club. This was an extremely hot biker pissed that his afternoon bang-a-thon had been rudely interrupted.

"You say I should have locked my door one more time and I'm gonna choke that pretty little neck of yours." Tiki practically growled. "Hindsight's really not gonna help much right now, Fawn, especially since Jane took off and left me with a raging case of aching balls."

Having failed to convince the young woman who had torn out of his room half-dressed that he was not banging their intruder, Tiki had returned to his dorm ready to rip into Fawn. But looking at his sponsor's daughter as she kept averting her eyes from his, Tiki felt his righteous anger burn out. She really did look pitiful sitting in a chair in the corner of his dorm, her cheeks pink and her face flushed.

Wearing nothing but a pair of button-fly jeans buttoned only half way, his arms crossed over his muscled and heavily-tattooed chest and bare feet, it finally dawned on Tiki why she was blushing like a schoolgirl and had suddenly grown fascinated by the cracks in his ceiling. Meanwhile, Fawn was desperately trying to ignore Tiki's knowing smirk as her inner voice dared her to help him out by making his blue balls go away.

Deciding that having Fawn catch him in the act might benefit him in the long run by peaking her interest, Tiki finally sank down on the edge of his bed. "Alright, sweetheart, stop pouting. I'm not gonna kill ya and it's not the end of the fuckin' world."

Fawn swallowed the lump in her throat and finally managed to make eye contact with Tiki. "Was she somebody special?"

"Nah, we just met in Lodi about an hour ago." Tiki wrinkled his nose as he shook his head slightly. "Truth is, I can't even remember if her name really is Jane. I think that's what pissed her off the most." He chuckled, running a hand through his dark, chin-length bed head.

Feeling like she could breathe again now that he was sitting down and not standing over her in his half-naked glory, Fawn giggled. "I'm sorry—"

"Stop. Your apology loses its sincerity when you start laughing at my pain." Tiki teased. "Just tell me what was so important that you just had to break up my nookie party."

Fawn bit her lip. "I kinda need a favor." As Fawn outlined her needs, Tiki's hazel eyes widened.

"Fawn, your father will fuckin' kill me." Tiki shook his head. "He's all about killing shit."

"I'll handle Tig. You just be good to your brother and help me make it all happen." Fawn smiled as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Shit." Tiki muttered under his breath just knowing that he was going to cave, thanks to his weakness for this redhead in particular.

 _My old man warned me. He said, hang around Tig long enough and you're gonna start thinking with your dick_.

* * *

Standing at her father's beside, Fawn noted the high color in his cheeks and the impatience she could read in his blue eyes.

"You need to calm down." She advised, concerned that he was going to make himself stroke out.

"I just want to get this shit over and done with." Tig growled. "I hate fuckin' cops."

"No surprise there. That's like saying water's wet." Fawn snarked as Tig gave her the evil eye. "Jax did the best he could in putting it off until now. Hopefully, after today, the Sheriff won't be bothering you anymore, or he's gonna have to answer to me."

Tig couldn't suppress the proud smile that slowly crept onto his face. "I heard you did real good in running interference with the po-po, Fawnzy."

" _Fawnzy_?!" Jax exclaimed as he entered the room, the grin he was sporting threatening to crack his face in half. "You call her 'Fawnzy'?"

"And what the fuck is wrong with that?" Tig asked defensively, a little put out by the fact that he was caught using his pet name for his daughter.

"What's wrong with it is that she's just too cute for such a lame nickname." Jax egged him on.

"Listen," Tig pointed a finger at his Prez. "You better not let my Doll Face hear you say that."

"Bro, you know I'm a one-woman man." Jax eyed his SAA. "Besides, Fawn's already had one close call too many with my old lady." He teased.

Fawn nodded her head. "Cute. Is there a reason why I'm looking at your face right now?"

Jax chuckled. "Yeah, Roosevelt's on his way up. You ready for this, man?"

"As ready as I'm gonna get." Tig replied as someone knocked on the door before letting themselves in.

Sheriff Eli Roosevelt made an impressive figure in his blue uniform. Removing his mirrored sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt pocket, he smiled at the occupants of the small hospital room.

"Mr. Teller, Ms. Trager." Roosevelt nodded before turning his attention to the man in the hospital bed. "Well, I finally get to talk to the elusive Mr. Trager. You look like you're in good health."

"Yeah," Tig drawled. Tucking his good arm behind his head, he grinned at the Sheriff. "It's a real fuckin' resort, St. Thomas."

"Fortunately for you, it is a very good hospital. Don't hear much about people getting shot four times and living to talk about it."

"What can I say?" Tig smirked. "I'm a tough son of a bitch. I guess my momma made me that way."

" _Something_ made you that way." Roosevelt responded, causing Fawn to give the Sheriff a side glance from her seat next to Tig's bed. "No more playing coy, Mr. Trager. I think it's time we discuss just exactly how you did manage to get yourself all shot up."

"Excuse me, Sheriff," Fawn interjected. "But I'm not sure I like your tone. Sounds a little bit like you're blaming the victim here."

Jax coughed to clear his throat ever so softly to get Tig's attention as he noted Fawn's pissed off countenance. Noticing the same thing, Tig raised an eyebrow as his bright blue eyes literally smiled.

"My apologies, Ms. Trager. My intention is not to offend, but to get to the truth of the matter." The Sheriff explained. "I, for one, can attest to the fact that innocent people are the victims of senseless crimes every day. If that is the case here, I'm sure it's unlikely that your father has done anything to provoke such an attack. After all, he is _just_ a mechanic and motorcycle enthusiast, right?"

Pretty sure that Fawn's next words included "Go fuck yourself", Tig took the fire flashing in her eyes as a cue to interject. "Can we just cut the bullshit and get on with this? I got a date with a nurse for an enema."

"Well, I certainly don't want to get between you and a good time." Roosevelt smiled engagingly. "So what happened?"

"I was on my way back home from a job when I was attacked on the road." Tig started.

"What, a repo job gone bad?" Roosevelt asked as he made notations in a small leather bound notepad.

Jax interjected. "SAMCRO has a long-standing business relationship with Unser Trucking, who in turn works with large retailers in transporting merchandise from their warehouses to various locations, from Crescent City to Bakersfield. We provide protection services and escort these shipments to their final destination to keep them safe from hijackers."

"So this is a result of a hijacking gone wrong?" Roosevelt queried.

"Nah, not exactly." Tig replied. "Me and two other brothers were protecting a round-trip shipment to Bakersfield—flat screens, blu-rays and digital cameras. The first delivery, no problem. On our way back, we picked up another shipment, this time designer handbags and high-end costume jewelry." He grinned at Fawn. "You would have liked that shit, honey. I was tempted to make some of it fall of the truck for ya, but I didn't. Suddenly, we were hit out of nowhere by this crew trying to hijack our shit right outside Stockton. But me and my brothers handled our shit and got the cargo to its final destination. They must've not been too happy about that. With my brothers heading back to Tacoma, I was riding alone on the way back to Charming. I had just taken to an old logging road to cut through Modesto when I realized I had picked up some friends. First they tried running me off the road. When that didn't work, they tried shooting my ass off the road."

Roosevelt looked at him with a leery eye. "And you knew it was the same crew because—"

"I recognized their ride. It was the same white-panel cargo truck that attempted the hijacking earlier." Tig responded.

The Sheriff crossed his arms over his powerful chest. "Could you identify your attackers?"

"Nah, man. I was too busy trying to stay alive to try and I.D. the fuckers. Still ended up laying my bike down. How is she, by the way?" Tig threw at Jax.

Fighting to hide a smirk, Jax replied, "Your bike is fine, brother."

"Good." Tig nodded. "Anyway, I tried ducking for cover but before I could they pumped my ass full of lead and left me for dead on the side of the road. All I remember before passing out was tying a tourniquet on my leg and calling my brothers for help. They must have come through because, the next thing I knew, I woke up here."

"That's certainly an interesting story." The Sheriff flipped his notepad closed and tucked his ball point pen into this shirt pocket.

Tig gave Roosevelt a crafty grin. "Now why do I get the feeling that you don't believe a word of it?"

"If you have any doubts, Sheriff," Jax started. "You are more than welcomed to contact Wayne Unser. I'm sure he keeps detailed reports of any and all incidents that occur during these deliveries. And I'm sure his driver would be happy to corroborate Tig's account of the attempted hijacking."

 _Oh, I just bet he will_ , Roosevelt thought grimly.

After three years of being on the force in the sleepy little town of Charming, Eli had become well acquainted with SAMCRO, but still wasn't any closer to figuring out how they worked than he was on his first day on the job. Eli's experience working with gangs back in Oakland had taught him how to work with these organizations to slowly neutralize them or eradicate them by sending their big dogs away for a long time. That specialized experience was why he had been chosen to run the Morada sub-station which included Charming as part of its jurisdiction.

One thing that Eli understood well was that in order to defeat an enemy, you had to know them. He had to admit that he had a level of respect for Jax Teller and the Club under his administration. They certainly seemed to have a love for their hometown, the seat of their organization, and kept it virtually crime-free. With the exception of a handful of incidents—the most recent being the attack by a Lodi-based MC on the town's annual festival, the incident that had brought him to Charming—in their 40-year history the Sons had managed to keep their business from endangering Charming's citizens.

But in spite of that respect, Eli did not see them as hometown heroes. The fact remained that the Sons were responsible, even if only as third-parties, for the gun violence that plagued cities in NorCal like Oakland. In good conscience, he had a job to do and that was to exploit whatever opportunities made themselves available to hamper their ability to operate in Sanwa County, so tying Trager's shooting to some criminal enterprise would play an integral role in getting at least one of the Sons off of the streets and behind bars.

Unfortunately, this attack on Trager didn't look like a viable option to accomplish that goal. Eli knew that it was unlikely that SAMCRO's SAA would have recounted to him that load of horse shit without making sure that all his T's were crossed and I's dotted.

 _After all Jax Teller does not run a sloppy organization_.

Although he knew he would probably never get the real story out of Trager, he was determined to do his due diligence and thoroughly investigate the matter. So Roosevelt spent the next hour running Trager through his story over and over again. Looking for inconsistencies, Eli tried to pin him down to the exact location of the botched hit and got the names of the Club members from their Tacoma charter who had allegedly participated in the ill-fated protection run in order to get their version of the story.

"I think we're done for right now. It doesn't really give me much to go on, but it's a start. I just hope that you haven't forgotten anything. Any small detail that you might recall could be helpful in apprehending your assailants." Roosevelt insisted.

 _If they aren't dead already_ , he mused.

Fawn's face was expressionless as she listened to the Sheriff, but internally she was doing back flips, relieved that the worst of it was over.

 _Now all we have to do is get his ass out of here_.

Holding out her hand Fawn gave the Sheriff an engaging smile. "Thank you so very much for your efforts, Lieutenant Roosevelt. You have no idea how grateful I am that you are doing your very best to arrest the assholes responsible for almost killing my father."

"You're welcome. I'll be in touch" Roosevelt shook her hand, nodded at the two patches and left.

Ten seconds passed before anyone spoke. "That's a fuckin' wrap. Good work, Tiggy." Jax slapped a hand down on his brother's shoulder. "I do think you were a little too nice for my taste. Maybe you could have been a little more of an asshole. It's what's expected."

"You see?" Tig thundered as he looked at his daughter. "I should have given him more shit."

"Oh, stop complaining. He could barely swallow the load of shit you fed him. There was no need to piss him off any more than necessary." Fawn replied.

"And apparently, it's not quite over yet." Jax added. "Sounds like he left the door open for more questioning, plus he's gonna talk to Donut and Bowie to make sure your story checks out."

"I'm not worried. The Tacoma boys always got my back. They can handle their shit, no problem." Tig said.

"What about the location he pressed you for? I thought Jax told you to be a little vague on that?" Fawn interjected.

"So? What's the big deal?" Tig asked.

"Evidence, asshole. They're gonna probably send a forensics team out there because if that's where you say you got shot up, there should be some sign—crushed foliage, boot prints, lots of blood, shell casings." Fawn responded. "But hopefully, they'll chalk up the lack of evidence to the rain storms we've had over the past few days." As her father and his President gave her astonished looks, Fawn grinned. "Hey, don't hate 'cause I love me some _Law & Order: SVU_."

* * *

Fawn headed down to the hospital's Administrator's office. The doctor had finally given the go ahead to release her father in the next few days and Fawn needed to meet with Margaret Murphy to finalize all of her father's paperwork.

Fawn had been working hard over the last couple of days ever since the doctor said that her father would be released soon and she had finally managed to get everything ready for his homecoming.

Spending time alone with her father in his little house in Eastburough was not going to be easy. Nursing her father back to health was not the only thing Fawn intended to accomplish during her remaining time with Tig. There was a lot of old dirty family laundry that need to be aired, as well as Fawn's interest in knowing just how it was that her father had been ambushed.

Colleen Trager had raised some nasty suspicions in her mind, inferring that Opie Winston might have had something to do with her Dad's injuries, and Fawn intended to get down to the bottom of that particular truth.


	6. Who's the Boss?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Sheriff Roosevelt took a sip from the mug in his hand and groaned as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee grounds.

 _For the love of God! Why can't I get a decent cup of coffee in my own station house_?

Tossing the contents of his favorite Keystone Cop mug—a quirky anniversary gift from his wife for 18 years on the force into the pantry sink—Eli snagged a glazed donut from the open box of pastries sitting next to the coffeemaker.

 _There are some things that are definitely better in a small town_ , Eli thought as he made quick work of munching through the freshly baked and tasty treat.

Rounding the corner to his office, Eli rolled his eyes as the scent of the distinctive and slightly acidic cologne of his most favorite politician to hate reached his nostrils.

"Why, hello there, Mayor Hale." Eli said as he saw the elegantly dressed man sitting in his office. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mayor Jacob Hale, Jr. stood up and offered a hand to Eli, who shook it firmly. "I was in this part of town and thought I would stop by and see if you've made any progress regarding the shooting incident involving the Sons of Anarchy."

"Actually, I just had my first interview with Mr. Trager." Eli replied as he sat down in his chair. "It went pretty much as I expected."

The Mayor gave the police lieutenant a hard glare. "Is that code-speak for you were unable to pin that son of a bitch down to some sort of criminal activity?"

"I guess you could read it that way." Eli did his best to repress his humor over the relationship he had with Hale Jr.

Ever since the Sanwa Sheriffs had taken over law and order in Charming, Jacob Hale had pretty much been a thorn embedded in his side. When Eli first met the man, he seemed to be fully committed to helping the town recover from a shocking and brutal assault at a local festival three years ago, the type of violence that had never visited the small sleepy NorCal town.

However, it wasn't long before Eli came to realize that, although the increased level of law enforcement was good for the town, Jacob Hale was far more concerned with lining his pockets and his family's coffers with as much money as possible by redeveloping the town and bringing it into this century kicking and screaming.

Shortly after taking credit for bringing the Sheriffs to Charming, Hale decided to ride the momentum of his sudden popularity and add politician to his resume. First, Hale managed to get himself appointed to several zoning committees, quickly moving onto the City Council, and finally winning his party's primary against Elliot Oswald, thus winning an uncontested race to be Charming's newest mayor.

But as much as the Mayor was intent on bringing new business to the town, a side benny being an increase in his own status and wealth within the community, he was equally as concerned with getting rid of what he believed was the bane of the town's existence, the Sons of Anarchy.

"So you were unable to get anything from the bastard? Not a single shred of evidence that would prove he was involved in the commission of some criminal enterprise when he was attacked?" Hale was perplexed.

Eli shrugged his shoulders. "As of an hour ago, no. From what Mr. Trager said, he was the victim of some hijackers intent on retaliation for a foiled attempt on one of Unser Trucking's shipments. I hope to know more soon after I speak with the former Chief and some of his employees."

"You do realize that this story is probably just a crock of shit, don't you?" The Mayor asked sarcastically.

"Oh, definitely more than probable." Eli agreed.

"Whether or not it's true, we cannot have this situation blow back on our town again, Eli."

"And I am in total agreement with you, Mayor," Eli said emphatically. "But as the attack happened in Modesto nearly three weeks ago, I don't foresee Charming being in any immediate danger."

"As Mayor, the _immediate_ danger is only part of my concern. Do you realize that the mere presence of the MC in our town has inhibited Charming's economic growth within the County? Out of all of the other cities in Sanwa—Lodi, Stockton, Modesto, San Leandro—Charming's business development has been stalled for over two decades, and SAMCRO is directly responsible for that." Hale argued.

"On a legal level, I don't think there's much by way of evidence to back up that claim, Mayor." Eli commented, just to press Hale's buttons. "I do believe, however, that SAMCRO is directly responsible for keeping other criminal organizations at bay, just beyond Charming's borders, keeping this town relatively safe for its citizens."

"Really? Do not let the MC's pro-small town stance fool you as well, Sheriff. The Sons fear growth and economic prosperity in this town for one reason and one reason only. Not because bringing in franchise businesses would ruin the integrity of small town living, but because an economic boom would bring in more people. More people require more policing and a larger law enforcement presence would hinder their ability to operate under the radar." Hale explained.

"I certainly see where you're coming from, but it's a known fact that franchise businesses and big box stores like Wal-Mart or Target have contributed to the death of Mom-and-Pop businesses all over the country." Eli countered. "Coming from the big city myself, I think it's wonderful that small businesses seem to thrive in Charming. My wife, for one, has being doing quite well with her shop here, something that would have been virtually impossible in a city like Oakland."

"Well, I think your wife's little enterprise is quite _nice_ ," the Mayor said condescendingly. "But it doesn't exactly put serious money in my—in the town's pocket, tax-wise, does it?"

Eli shrugged his shoulders. "I guess being just a policeman, I don't know much about big business."

_But I do know that kind of greed will be the death of this town._

The downtown area was the life blood of Charming. Despite the Mayor's blustering, the town had created jobs, many of which supported the families of Charming. Sure, there were some areas in town that would benefit from some redevelopment, but not in the grandiose terms that the Mayor was trying to push.

Although needling the Mayor was an innocent past time, Eli was realistic. Knowing that really pissing off the Mayor was not in his best interest, he made some soothing noises to calm the man down before ushering him out of his office.

It was becoming increasingly clear that Eli was better off not just keeping a watchful eye on SAMCRO, but on the Mayor as well. Just because the man wore a designer suit and tie didn't mean he's wasn't part of some nefarious gang himself. Indeed, Mayor Hale and men like him were part of the most powerful and dangerous one of them all.

_Old White Money._

* * *

"You had a delivery."

Hearing the raspy voice, Fawn did her best not to shudder as she turned away from the coffee pot to face the Queen Mother of SAMCRO.

Gemma Teller-Morrow was dressed to the nines in a flattering red wrap blouse with a rounded neckline and what Fawn had come to know as her trademark designer skinny jeans.

 _The bod is still in pretty good shape, but she really could use a hair makeover_. _And maybe some make-up tips_.

"Uh, excuse me?" Fawn replied, rather confused.

Gemma raised an eyebrow. "A delivery. You know, some shit came for you today. A couple of large boxes. They're in the hall outside Tig's room. I would've had the Prospect put them inside, but I don't have a set of Tig's keys."

Fawn's eyes lit up as she finally realized what they were. "Oh, thank God." She enthused. "It must be my clothes from Seattle. I can finally retire the same four outfits I've been wearing since I arrived."

Gemma smirked. "Looking at the size of the boxes, it looks like you're moving in for the duration."

Not one to let people into her business uninvited, Fawn shrugged off the comment. "I had a friend pack for me." She replied, as far as she was willing to go. "I better go check it out. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem."

"Do you think it would be a problem getting a couple of Prospects to load it all into my car when I'm ready?" Fawn asked.

"No." Gemma replied. "You planning on going somewhere?"

Fawn took a sip of her coffee to keep herself from sticking her foot in it. Remembering what Tiki had told her, not much went under the radar around the Clubhouse when it came to personal business. Deciding there was no harm in sharing her plans for her father's release from the hospital, Fawn nodded. "Yeah, I need to get my shit settled in at my Dad's house. I've been working on getting things set up there for him."

Gemma raised an eyebrow. "That's good thinking. I can't see Tigger being comfortable in his dorm in his current condition."

"There was no way. His room here is too cramped and lacks all the amenities he has over at his place." Fawn agreed. "I was actually quite surprised by how nice his home is. I mean, I know Tig's a bit of a neat freak, but I wasn't expecting his house to be so cozy and comfy. He's not exactly color-coordinated, you know. I've only ever seen him wear black. Someone with extremely good taste must have had a hand in decorating." She said and, as Gemma was about to open her mouth to take credit, Fawn continued. "Seems Tiki was right about the Club whores being able to do more than just open beers and suck dick."

Gemma coughed. "I'm glad you appreciate my sense of design, so I'll just pretend you stopped talking before you got around to calling me a whore again." She drawled out.

Fawn winced as she eyed the older woman. "Fuck! Did I really just do that again?"

"Yeah, you did." Gemma smirked. "As Tig's kid, I would say all is forgiven, but you're burning through your free passes and he's not even out of the hospital yet."

Fawn licked her suddenly dry lips. "Look, about our first meet—"

Gemma crossed her arms under her impressive chest. "Don't worry about it. I don't have a thin skin."

"And your daughter-in-law?"

"Jolene? She normally doesn't have thin skin either, but she's never been mistaken for a sweetbutt before. I'm guessing that's not something she's likely to brush off anytime soon." Gemma started. "By the way, Jolene's thinking about planning a party at the Clubhouse for Tigger when he gets out—"

"Oh, that's really nice," Fawn replied. "But so not necessary."

Gemma put her hand on her cocked hip. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, I'm sure it's the thought that counts, but right now my Dad needs to rest more than he needs to party. With all the visitors he's had at the hospital these past couple of weeks, I don't think he's had an uninterrupted nap since he came out of his coma." Finishing her coffee, Fawn placed the cup in the sink and folded her arms across her chest. "Since everyone's had the chance to visit with him by now, I'm taking him straight home once he gets discharged, so please tell Jolene that she should table any plans for a shindig for the SAA. And that maybe she should talk to me, his daughter, first before rescheduling."

To Fawn, this seemed like solid reasoning on her part. After all, she was just looking out for Tig's well being. But something in the dumbstruck look on the older woman's face told her that the Prez's wife wasn't going to see it that way.

"I really appreciate you passing that along, ma'am." Fawn said before she headed back towards the dorms.

" _Ma'am_?!" Gemma muttered incredulously. "I think I like her better when she's calling me a whore."

* * *

Fawn felt like a giddy teenage school girl as she went through the two massive boxes that Tina had sent. While Fawn didn't have much in the way of expenses, her one true love—other than her dog, car, and career—was her wardrobe. She had tons of clothes and accessories and was surprised that her friend had managed to pick her favorite pieces.

Having spent a couple of hours going through her stuff and picking out an outfit to wear which she hoped wouldn't be too glitzy for the sleepy Cali town, Fawn had lost track of the time. Judging from the noise that was echoing down the hallway towards the dorms, she knew that a spontaneous party had broken out in the Clubhouse.

_And these people sure loved to party._

Having the rest of the evening to herself, after making a quick visit to her father earlier in the day and spending the rest of her time prepping Tig's house for his arrival, Fawn had intended to kick back and relax in the dorm. But now with the arrival of her clothes, she was itching to get her stuff moved over to her Dad's place. Deciding to borrow a page from the Queen's Handbook, Fawn got up from her father's bed, changed into her new outfit and headed out to the Main Room to press a couple of Prospects into service to transfer her stuff to her car.

Fawn nearly rolled her eyes as she observed the party in progress. With the exception that the partygoers were a group of rowdy bikers and their whores, the party in progress was pretty much like those she used to attend when she was a young, wild and stupid teenager. Instead of the biker scene, Fawn would use a fake I.D. to get into nightclubs with a bumping hip hop/techno beat and the best connections to drugs a lot harder than weed. Despite the obvious good time that was being had by the bikers and their hang-arounds, after nearly ten years on the wagon, Fawn found that she didn't miss partying at all.

Seeing a young man pass her wearing a Prospect kutte, Fawn was about to snag him when she heard the sexy tenor voice that always seemed to send shivers down her spine.

"Hey, look who came out to have a little fun with the outlaws."

Fawn inhaled, exhaled and then turned around to face her not-so-favorite Redwood tree leaning up against the crowded bar. With his long hair loose and glinting in the lights above the bar and brushing against his broad shoulders, the SAMCRO VP's green eyes sparkled merrily at her.

 _Damn, that fuckin' tall drink of water sure is looking good tonight_ , Fawn allowed herself to admit.

Opie had a shot glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Allowing his eyes to travel down the length of Fawn's body, he smiled inwardly.

 _Utter fuckin' perfection_.

Wearing a deep pink fitted sleeveless silk blouse, low-riding skin-tight leather pants, and five-inch Alexander McQueen shoes, Fawn looked every inch of a sexy red-headed siren, and Opie was not the only one who noticed. The noise level in the room lowered considerably as the patches and hang-arounds briefly stopped what they were doing to take in the fresh meat. As the tempo of the room picked up again, Opie already had a good idea as to what vultures would soon start circling.

 _She shouldn't be allowed out looking like that without a fuckin' bodyguard_.

With her head cocked to the side, Fawn rested a fist on her hip. "Not exactly, Big Red." Fawn smiled as the SAMCRO VP's eyes widened. "What, you don't like nicknames?"

"No," Opie replied. "Not particularly."

"Hmm, okay, _Opie_. I guess I'll have to remember that." She grinned flirtatiously. "Anyway, _Sport_ , can you point me to a couple of Prospects? I need a little help."

Gulping his drink, Opie slammed the shot glass down on the bar and folded his arms across his chest. "What do you need a Prospect for?"

"I got some boxes I'd like moved to my car."

Opie shrugged his shoulders and took a final long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in an ashtray, exhaling a trail of smoke. "That's no problem. I can help you with that." After working a long, hard day at the warehouse overseeing the assembly of AKs and stopping off at home to check on his kids, Opie had headed to the Clubhouse to wind down. Having more than a few shots of Jack, he was feeling quite mellow and sociable. Surprising Fawn as she felt his slightly callused hand wrap around her long, slender fingers, the outlaw biker was pulling her closer until she found herself in his personal space. "Have a drink with me first."

In her heels, she was looking directly into his eyes. His scent, a mixture of spicy cologne, cigarettes, liquor and what was unmistakably gunpowder, was almost intoxicating.

 _Charming Mother-fucker. Down, girl!_ Fawn ordered.

"Uh," Fawn stammered, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't drink."

The corner of Opie's mouth lifted in what to Fawn was an incredibly sexy smirk. "Anything else you don't do?"

With her hand still in his firm hold, Fawn ran her free one through her deep red tresses. "I have to warn you, you might be disappointed by what's on the list." She flashed him a flirty grin.

"I'm always up for a challenge." Opie smiled broadly. Fawn felt her heart skip a beat as she looked into his warm, dark green eyes.

"A corrupter, are you?"

"Can't you tell? I can be quite persuasive." He responded cheekily. "Have one drink with me."

 _There's no such thing as one drink_ , Fawn thought. _Not for me at least_.

This was the most civil the outlaw had been to her since her arrival. The last thing Fawn wanted to do was turn him down. "How about some water, maybe a soft drink?" She asked, as Opie quirked an eyebrow at her. "If you wanna corrupt me, you're gonna have to choose something else on that list because I really don't drink."

"Well, maybe you can get a Prospect to make you one of those girly, virgin drinks like a Shirley Temple."

Hearing the slightly acidic tone behind her, Fawn tensed and turned around.

 _Cheap dye job whore walking_.

"Shirley Who?" Fawn asked sarcastically, making a subtle dig at Emily Duncan's age. "Oh, it's you again." With her arms crossed under her chest and her long red waves flowing over her shoulders, Fawn made an impressive figure standing next to Opie.

 _Almost like that's exactly where she belongs_ , Emily thought bitterly.

"That's right. And you're Tig's kid. Look, I'm sorry about our little misunderstanding a way's back. I guess the word about you hadn't gone wide yet." Emily smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

After the smack down that hadn't happened and the revelation of Fawn's status within the Club as the Sergeant-of-Arms' daughter, Emily had considered herself lucky that she had gotten off so easy. Fortunately, since their first encounter, Emily had been able to gather some Intel and had discovered that little Miss Trager didn't know shit about living the MC life. That was a disadvantage that Emily was not above exploiting.

While Fawn had been busy with her father at the hospital, Emily had been doing her best to make herself indispensable to the SAMCRO VP. Although she and Opie had hooked up on occasion since his old lady's death, in recent weeks, they had been burning up the sheets. Emily was quite confident that if anyone had the chance of snagging the surly biker, she would definitely be at the top of that list.

_I'm not about to let some MC-ignorant bitch keep me from becoming Opie's old lady._

Emily knew, however, that she had to play it cool and show a measure of respect to the woman. But there were still ways to make her position in the Clubhouse known to the clueless woman and make sure that the redheaded bitch kept her mitts off of Opie Winston.

"Whatever." Fawn dismissed the woman with a burning look and turned back to Opie. "I don't wanna step on your regular drinking buddy's toes, so I'll find somebody else to take care of me."

 _If he wants to do a trick with deflated airbags for titties, he can go for it_ , she thought a little contemptuously.

Opie was dumbstruck as he watched the sexy woman strut away, rocking the hell out of her leather pants.

"Fuck!" Opie slammed his fist on the bar, causing several empty glasses and beer bottles to jump.

"Hey, Fawn!"

"Tiki!" Fawn flipped her hair over shoulder to see the tall biker headed in her direction. "Could you be a love and help me find a couple of Prospects to lug some boxes out to my car?"

"I'll do you one better, sweetheart." Tiki grinned at her. "I'll help you myself." _That way I can make sure you get to your car in one piece_.

Noticing the attention the new woman in the Clubhouse was getting as several of his brothers did very little to hide their interest, Tiki figured it was best if he stepped in and watched over her.

Turning to head back to the dorms, Fawn missed the subtle reciprocating nod Tiki threw at Opie's nodded thanks for taking care of the fiery redhead. Tiki had stood practically unnoticed watching Opie's flirty interaction with Fawn, even noting his brother's look of utter disappointment as Fawn stepped aside and threw the croweater at him.

But as far as Tiki could tell, Emily was working a lost cause. Even if they didn't know it themselves, it was obvious to everyone else around them that the sparks were flying between Opie and Fawn.

As Tiki followed Fawn back to his sponsor's door, watching her ass sway back and forth, he sighed wistfully.

 _It's only a matter of time before those two spontaneously combust. If Emily doesn't watch out, she just might get burnt to a crisp_.

* * *

Fawn kicked the back door leading into the kitchen closed with her booted foot after carrying in the last few bags of groceries and placed them on the overflowing kitchen table. She barely had a chance to shrug off her leather jacket before she was assaulted from behind.

"Rocco!" She squealed as she felt the dog's warm tongue on her neck. "Get off me, you crazy fur ball. I was only gone a couple of hours." Obeying his mistress, Rocco allowed his front paws to land on the kitchen floor before circling around her a few times. Finally settling down in front of the back door, Rocco watched as Fawn got busy putting away the perishables and dry goods she had picked up during her food shopping spree.

"I can't believe I was able to find all this organic food right here in Charming. Not bad for a sleepy little town, huh, Rocco? And the Farmer's Market Bobby told me about is fantastic." She enthused to her captive audience. " _And_ I was able to find your favorite food and I got a couple of treats for ya, too."

Digging into one of the canvas bags on the table, Fawn pulled out a large container of dried liver treats. Instantly recognizing his favorite snack, Rocco sat up, letting out a couple of small barks as he waited for Fawn to toss him a couple of treats. Once again getting comfortable, the Greyhound was making happy, contented noises as he chewed on his snack.

For the last several days, Fawn had been busy. Between making fleeting visits to her dad at the hospital, shopping for supplies, moving into the house, all the while preparing it for his return, she barely had a minute to take a break.

It hadn't been easy either. The hardest bit had been getting Tiki to bring her over to her old man's house in the first place. Apparently, the house was something of a secret retreat for Tig as he lived most of the time in his dorm. For the foreseeable future, however, bunking down at the Clubhouse was over and done with. Not only did Tig need room enough to recover comfortably, but she needed enough room to be able to take care of him properly. There was no way any of that would be possible in the loud and noisy Clubhouse with his brothers, sweetbutts and croweaters running in and out constantly. Not to mention bossy old ladies trying to usurp her decision-making authority as the patient's daughter.

Tiki had bitched and moaned, but she had finally won him over. Fawn liked to think that she had managed to get him to see her reasoning, but she knew the tight fitted t-shirt and short denim shorts she had been wearing had a lot more to do with it. Fawn had felt a slight twinge of guilt using her womanly wiles against the little man-whore since it was more than likely that, once he recovered, Tig was going to beat the living shit out of the young patch.

The second hardest part had been avoiding the SAMCRO Queens. After stepping in it with the two women, Fawn wasn't inclined to reach out to them for help. She didn't need it and she really didn't want it anyway. After years of estrangement, this shooting had given her the opportunity to pull up her big girl panties and tackle her father on their nonexistent relationship.

 _Besides, I'm not at all interested in hanging out around 'Doll Face'_ ,Fawn thought mulishly as she shoved a box of cereal into a cabinet.

There had been a few times that Fawn had shown up at St. Thomas only to find that Jolene Teller, the SAMCRO Queen, was installed in her dad's room keeping him company.

 _Showering her attentions like Lady Fuckin' Bountiful on_ _my_ _dad_ _,_ she thought bitterly.

Fawn realized that her feelings of jealously were a bit childish, but it was quite clear that there was a great deal of affection and respect between her father and Jax Teller's old lady. Even the cutesy little nickname Tig had given her made Fawn's teeth stand on edge, so she had no intention of having either of the Queens hanging around while she worked her shit out with her father.

 _For the next couple of weeks it's just going to be me and_ Dad, Fawn smiled to herself. _And h_ _opefully we won't kill each other._

* * *

Having gone through Tig's house, Fawn had gathered every bottle of booze and can of beer, all cartons of cigarettes and boxes of cigars, even a couple bags of weed, and transported the whole lot to be stored in the Clubhouse's stock room for safe keeping. Tig's doctor had been very specific about his recovery. With the course of pain management medication he was going to need over the next couple of months, there would be no booze-slash-prescription meds cocktails on the SAA's menu, if Fawn had anything to do with it.

The only other major project waiting to be done was installing a hospital bed in Tig's room and whatever paraphernalia he would need in his bathroom. Fortunately, the bathroom in his bedroom had a very large shower stall, but for the time being, he would have to suffer through sponge baths until he could move his hip around.

With Tig scheduled to be discharged in two days, there were a couple of small things to take care of before that happened. And one of them was visiting _Stems and Bulbs_.

 _Stems and Bulbs_ was one of the quaint shops in downtown Charming. Fawn had noticed it a few times as she made her way around the small town's business district and had been itching to go inside ever since she saw the attractive displays in the shop's windows.

Fawn loved flowers, a leftover from a childhood spent working in her grandparents' rose garden in Oregon. No matter how out of pocket she was at any given time, Fawn always bought fresh flowers for her apartment. Beautiful bouquets of flowers made her happy and, even though she knew Tig would have no appreciation for them, she was determined to buy a several arrangements to decorate the house with.

Pushing open the door, the bell above it tinkled prettily, letting the owner know that they had a customer.

"Just a minute." A friendly, feminine voice called out from the back room.

"Take your time." Fawn replied as she walked around the shop. Unlike a lot of shops she had visited, there was a lot of exposure from the wide-paned windows facing the street. The late spring sun brightened the interior nicely and made all of the plants and flowers look radiant.

Looking at a particularly beautiful arrangement of crimson, orange, and golden Mokaras Orchids, the latter speckled with glints of auburn in a purple glass bulb vase, Fawn gasped. "Oh, that is fuckin' gorgeous. I have to have it."

Fawn heard a light laugh. "I'm glad you approve."

She turned to face the owner of _Stems and Bulbs_ , a beautiful slender woman about Fawn's height, with long dark hair that framed café au lait skin and hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend, but I'm not much for watching my language, especially when I'm stunned shitless." Fawn apologized.

The young woman behind the counter smiled. "It's not a problem. I love it when my work is appreciated. It's a great mood boost."

"Well, your arrangements are fantastic, everything here is beautiful. I kind of have to wonder what the fuck you're doing here in Charming?" Fawn sighed. "Sorry, I also have a tendency to ask rude and awkward questions."

"It's all right, love. I get that a lot. Actually, my husband and I moved here from Oakland for my husband's work. I worked shops up there for years, but moving here finally afforded me the opportunity to open a place of my own."

"Good for you. Charming seems like a nice town, but it could use a little shot in the arm in the business district. It must be a hard building up a new business here, especially for a newcomer."

"Actually, the townsfolk here are really supportive of local businesses. There may not be much by way of franchises, but you wouldn't know it."

"Well, I will definitely do my part to support Charming's economy. I was quite serious about the orchids. I really want that arrangement and I see you have some blue delphiniums. I'd love an arrangement for my dad, as well."

"Hmm, big spender. Let's get you all set, then. My name's Rita, by the way." She held out her hand.

Fawn took it. "I'm Fawn. It's really nice to meet you. I think I'll be in here a lot while I'm in town."

Rita brought up an order screen on the computer in front of her. "You're not a resident, then?"

"Only temporary. I'm here to take care of my Dad while he's recovering from some injuries." Fawn explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure these flowers will go a long way in cheering him up. You want both delivered?"

"That would be great." Handing her credit card to Rita, she saw the shop owner take a look at her name and blink.

_Uh-oh._

"Trager? As in _Tig_ Trager's daughter?" Rita asked with a curious glint in her eye.

"Yeah, that's right." Fawn narrowed her eyes. _And please don't give me any shit about it 'cause I was starting to like you_.

"I believe my husband knows your father. Does the name Eli Roosevelt ring a bell?" Rita looked like she was going to crack up.

"Ho-lee shit."

"Are you gonna get in trouble buying flowers from the wife of the local Po Po?" Rita raised her eyebrows wryly.

"My Dad's too busted up to give me shit." Fawn smiled.

Rita smiled as she handed back Fawn's credit card and receipt. "Then I guess I'll be seeing you in here again."

"Damn straight." Fawn replied as she headed towards the door. "See you around."

* * *

"Well, Mr. Trager, I'm sure you're glad to be finally going home." The small blond nurse took the clipboard from Tig after he signed his final release papers with a flourish and handed them back to her.

"Absolutely, sweetheart, but I really appreciate you looking out for me." Tig gave the nurse a rakish grin. "I may have to come back here when I'm done healing just to show you my appreciation."

Fawn rolled her eyes as the woman turned a pretty shade of pink and giggled. "I certainly hope you do that." She flirted, in spite of the wedding ring on her finger, as she walked out of the room.

"Now I know you're feeling better. That's like the third nurse you've said that to today." Fawn smirked.

"Hey, what did ya expect? With all the sponge baths I've been taking, word about the size of my package was bound to get around—"

"Eww, Dad, please!" Fawn covered her face and walked away from her father's bed to the other side of the private room.

"Don't hate the player, Fawnzy." Tig pointed a finger at her. "I've had more nurses visiting me in this joint than bitches from the Clubhouse. _I wonder whose fault that is_." He said eying his daughter.

"You're not in some kinky resort, _Tigger_ ," Fawn shot back. "You better get used to your lack of female company and keep that left hand in working condition or, knowing you, the next couple of months are gonna seem like years."

"Hey, me and Lefty are best of friends, so there ain't nothing new there, baby." Tig teased. "And FYI, I'm ambidextrous." He made an obscene gesture using both hands.

"Nice, now I feel like I have to clean my ears out with steel wool." Fawn turned around to see a grimacing Jax enter the room, followed by Opie and Tiki.

"You Tragers certainly don't have the typical father-daughter relationship, do you?"

"No," Fawn turned her back on the Club VP. "I guess we don't."

"Hey, brother." Tig grinned at Opie. "How's it going? You keeping an eye on Jax?"

"Best that I can, but the asshole isn't always the most cooperative. I don't know how you manage to keep him on a leash."

"Stop talking shit, Ope. It's no fun dealing with your grumpy ass either." Jax straightened up from giving Tig a bro-hug and turned to hug Fawn. "So you ready to get sprung from this prison?"

"No doubt, bro." Tig's grin was threatening to crack his face in half. "I can't wait to get my ass back to my dorm."

Jax quirked an eyebrow at Fawn and was about to open his mouth when she silently shook her head.

_Shit, he doesn't know. This ain't gonna be good._

Jax was of two minds about the situation. Even though he owed his loyalty to his brother first and foremost and should probably warn him of Fawn's plan, Tig's well-being was equally as important. Knowing that the SAA's brush with death had been just a little too close for comfort, Jax knew exactly what the man needed to recover and being in the Clubhouse wasn't it, so he decided to keep his mouth shut.

Opie, however, felt he owed his brother a fighting chance and was about to open his mouth to throw Fawn under the bus.

Moving quickly, Jax said, "Ope, why don't you get that wheelchair I saw in the corridor so we can hit the road."

Opie had been determined to blow shit up for Tig's daughter just to fuck around with her, but suddenly realized how childish and petty that was. Rolling his eyes, Opie exited the room to do as his brother requested.

After their near miss at the Clubhouse, Opie had been feeling a little pissy, and who could blame him? He had been so close to melting Fawn's icy façade and hitting that fine ass, he was surprised that he hadn't punched a hole through the bar when she walked away. But since then, he had time to reconsider that maybe messing around with Tig's kid wasn't such a great idea after all. He and Tig were only now starting to mend their broken relationship, so treating Fawn like a sweetbutt would have been a bad call on his part. Brotherhood was too important to let pussy fuck it up.

 _Besides_ , Opie reasoned with himself, _I probably had one drink too many when I yanked her close enough to kiss those full and sweetly curved lips_.

"Won't happen again." Opie muttered under his breath as he grabbed the empty wheelchair, refusing to acknowledge the part of him that told him he was lying to himself.

His attraction to Fawn Trager—he tried to convince himself—was purely physical because Opie was sure that he didn't like her at all. She was too outspoken and somewhat abrasive. She was also smart and independent, which translated into a woman that demanded that her partner not half-ass a relationship. And the last thing Opie wanted or needed was getting involved in a commitment with a woman who expected from him as much as she invested into the relationship.

Those days were over for him. They had come to an end when Donna died.

For now, Emily Duncan was all he needed. Even though Opie knew exactly what the territorial croweater was aiming for when she had latched herself onto him, there was no way he was going to give it to her. He couldn't. He had learned a hard lesson from the mistakes he had made with Cara Cara's former It-Girl. He was still a man and needed his baser needs taken care of, but he had learned to keep that part of his life separate from his family life.

What happened at the Clubhouse, stayed at the Clubhouse. Any croweater who thought otherwise was only fooling herself.

Fawn Trager was not a croweater, however, and it hit Opie like a ton of bricks when he realized that's exactly why he didn't like her. Theirs would not be a casual relationship. The way she carried herself, with self-confidence and poise—even though she was prone to jamming her foot in her mouth—made the beauty old lady material. Hooking up with Fawn would almost feel like he was cheating on Donna.

_Funny, but I never felt that way about the porn star._

But in spite of the good job he had done in convincing himself, all of the reasons why he could never get involved with Fawn quickly left his head as soon as Opie returned to Tig's room with the wheelchair. As usual, father and daughter were in the midst of verbally sparring, but it was the fact that Tiki was massaging Fawn's shoulders in order to calm her down that had Opie seeing red. It didn't go unnoticed by Jax either as his best friend stormed out of the room when Tiki let his hands skim down her back, causing Fawn to shudder involuntarily, until they rested on her slender waist.

Jax smirked to himself. It was pretty ballsy of Tiki to get so hands on with Fawn in front of her father, but Tig was so engrossed in making his point that he hadn't noticed. His VP, however, had. If Jax was as good at reading people as he thought he was, he needed to start playing cupid for his best friend and his SAA's kid before Opie made a motion to patch Tiki out just so he could kill him.

* * *

"What the fuck are we doing here, Fawnzy?" Tig was already in full bitch-mode the second the doors to his ride home opened.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe we're here because, uh, this is your house." His daughter replied sarcastically as she watched the paramedic lower her father down from the ambulance.

"Fuck that shit, Fawn! This is my retreat! My sanctuary! No fuckin' broads allowed!" The extremely irate SAA protested loudly.

"I am _not_ a 'broad', you fuckin' baby—I'm your daughter. And what? I'm not allowed in your Fortress of Solitude?" Fawn reached over to yank one of the black curls on his head, but Tig managed to swat her hand away. "You're just gonna have to put up with me staying here, _Superman_ ,because there is no proper way for me to take care of you at the Clubhouse, so put a sock in it and learn how to share."

Both Opie and Jax tried to do their best to stifle their laughter as they watched Fawn run roughshod over her ailing father. As the Paramedic rolled Tig up the makeshift ramp several Prospects had installed and into his house, Fawn shouted directions to Tig's bedroom.

"Aw fuck! You brought your damn horse with ya, too? You didn't tell me that shit!" Tig moaned as the 4½-foot tall dog tried to jump onto his lap like he was a tiny lap dog.

"Rocco! Get down, baby. You can greet your grandpa later."

" _Grandpa_? You outta your fuckin' mind, Fawnzy." Tig tried to duck his head out of reach as Rocco was determined to give his mistress' father a proper face bath.

Stepping in, Opie managed to pull Rocco away by his collar so that Tig and his entourage could finally make it to his bedroom.

Tig wasted no time in moaning and groaning. "And where the hell is my bed?" He growled as he swiped at the dog drool on his cheek, appalled that he was looking at a large hospital bed where his should be standing instead. He had been dreaming of sleeping in his own bed since he woke up from his coma.

"In the garage where its gonna stay until you get better. There was no way you were getting in and out of a water bed without puncturing it. Just be grateful I didn't take your mirrored ceiling down, too, so stop whining and get your ass into bed." She commanded, hands on her hips. "Tiki, can you help him, please?" She asked sweetly.

Both Tiki and the Paramedic did quick work of getting Tig stripped of his sweatpants and SAMCRO t-shirt and into some oversized pajamas before moving him onto his bed, as Opie and Jax watched from the sidelines. The easy part was over.

Sighing with relief, Fawn escorted the Paramedic to the door and thanked him, giving him a large tip for his trouble and then returned to her father's room just in time to hear him beg.

"You guys are my brothers. You promised to always have my back. You can't just leave me here with that harpy and her moose. We'll end up killing each other, sure as shit." Tig complained.

"You, kill me? You have to catch me first, gimpy." Fawn retorted. Turning on the Club President and his small crew, she said, "Okay, everybody. It's time for you to go. Say goodbye now."

Jax raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

Fawn smiled. "Oh, I'm very serious. Besides, I only made enough dinner for the two of us."

Tig sniffed. "Something does smell kinda good out there." He had practically starved during his stay at the hospital. A better alternative to eating the shitty food they served was the aroma of the homecooked meal that currently had the SAA salivating. "Whacha got cooking?"

"You'll find out as soon as company leaves." Fawn bartered, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Okay, guys. You heard my kid. Scram. You can send some brothers over to visit tomorrow." Tig grinned.

 _That's what you think, old man_ , Fawn grinned to herself.

Escorting the three bikers to the porch, she gave them a grateful smile. "Thanks a lot for escorting us home. I really appreciate it."

"There's no thanks necessary, Fawn. We're all family around here. If you need, I can send some people out here to help. Everybody's looking forward to seeing him again." Jax replied.

"That's really great and I really am grateful for the offer, but _everyone's_ gonna have to wait a couple of weeks." She responded.

The SAMCRO President blinked his eyes. "I'm not following. I know from my old lady that you nixed the idea of a party, which she was not too happy about—"

"Yeah, that's right." Fawn nodded. "Tig needs rest and he's not going to get it with people traipsing in and out of here 24/7, so I would appreciate if you would let everyone know that he won't be receiving any visitors for the next couple of weeks." She advised, smiling cheekily as she saw their eyes widen. "Please get home safely and Tiki, make sure you thank your Dad for me for the muffins. Tig will love them, I'm sure."

And without so much as a by-your-leave, Fawn Trager went into her father's house and shut the door firmly behind her.

* * *

 _Oh, Tig's daughter must be fuckin' certifiable_!

Jolene Teller pulled the minivan to a stop and got out. Dressed to the nines in a black pencil skirt, red blouse and a black leather jacket, she slammed the door behind her.

Having finished school for the day, Jolene decided that a couple of days was as long as she was willing to stay away from her old man's SAA. She certainly hoped it had allowed her enough time to cool off her temper before facing Fawn Trager.

Gemma, no longer the reigning Queen of Charming, had somehow managed to mellow out over the last several years. That was the only explanation Jolene had as to why she was actually capable of relaying Fawn's message cancelling Jolene's welcome home party for Tig without throwing a fit.

Jolene's reaction had been a little different. She had been royally pissed and quite vocal regarding her anger towards the younger woman for putting her foot down and nixing the party. It had taken a calm, cool, and collected Gemma to remind Jolene that she herself had been a tyrant after Clay's accident several years ago. Remembering how concerned she had been about her own father's health enabled Jolene to cut Fawn a small break.

A _very_ small break.

However, all bets were off when Jax had come home with Fawn's second edict prohibiting Tig from having visitors for the next two weeks. Period.

" _Fawn may be his daughter, but_ _we're_ _his family!" Jolene had raged at Jax. "She's been MIA for years, but suddenly, she's back for a hot minute and she's cutting him off from everyone that cares about him_."

Jolene had spent a lot of time trying to help Tig come through the other side of a chain of horrible events that had killed her best friend Donna and SAMCRO's co-founder, Piney Winston. Losing his old lady _and_ his old man within days of each other had nearly destroyed Opie. Opie wanted his brother Tig dead and Tig was doing his part, indulging in self-destructive behavior, to give Opie what he wanted. It had been a hard road back for the Sergeant-at-Arms, but he managed it and as a result, after so many years knowing each other, Tig and Jolene had forged an unlikely friendship.

Family meant everything to Jolene and, although they weren't blood-related, Tig was a part of her family. Walking up the freshly installed ramp to the front door, Jolene knocked rather loudly.

Fawn was in the kitchen when she heard someone at the front door. Quickly washing her hands of the sticky residue from peeling potatoes, she dried her hands on a kitchen towel and headed towards the door.

It had barely been two days since Tig got out of the hospital. It was obvious someone considered themselves above the rules she had set for her father's recovery. Pulling open the door, Fawn narrowed her eyes as she looked down on Jax Teller's old lady.

_Damn it._

After the mistaken-identity fiasco, Fawn was so not interested in going toe-to-toe with the President's old lady. Not that she couldn't handle her shit, but with her foot-in-mouth disease, she was bound to say something that would offend the SAMCRO Queen even further, so Fawn decided to be gracious and kind.

It lasted all of thirty seconds.

Fawn leaned against the doorjamb, keeping the open door tightly against her cocked hip, thus denying entry. "Hello. How can I help you?"

Jolene looked the women up and down, taking note of her dark red hair which was pulled into a messy top knot on the back of her head, with strands trailing down her shoulders. Wearing a dark blue apron with Betty Boo on it and a slogan that said "Fuck Me! I'm the Cook! Boop Boop Be Doop!" over a tank top and a pair of dark wash jeans, the young woman still managed to look sexy as hell.

"I think you know who I am. At least, I hope you haven't forgotten. I'm here to see Tig." Jolene said confidently.

"He's napping right now, but I'll tell him you stopped by."

"That's okay. I don't mind waiting." The Queen of Charming replied.

 _Doll Face, you are working my last nerve_.

"Again, it's really nice of you to stop by, but seeing Tig is not an option." Fawn nearly grinned to herself as she saw the shock register on the dark-haired beauty's face.

"Look," Jolene tried to talk past her numb tongue. "I'm sure you're just being protective of Tig. I understand, after all he is your dad—"

"That's right." Fawn interrupted. "He's my father, _not yours_ , so I get to call the shot, _not the Queen of Charming_." Fawn smiled broadly. "No disrespect intended." She lied.

 _The fuck you say_ , Jolene's temper was on a short leash as she eyed the incredibly tall woman through narrow slits.

"As I told your old man, I want my father to get as much rest as possible and allow his body to recover, so no visitors, but don't worry. I'll be sure to give your old man a ring and let him know when Tig can have company again. Thanks again for stopping by."

And with that, Fawn closed the door, locked it and returned to finish preparing her father's dinner. Hearing the sound of a car burning rubber as it pealed out of the driveway, Fawn grinned.

 _That was fun_!


	7. Trager Tough Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe** **.**

* * *

It had been about an hour since the sun had set. With the full moon hanging in a midnight blue sky, there was a beautiful slivery light falling on the large tree sitting outside of Tig's bedroom window. For probably the first time since his arrival from the hospital, the Trager house was quiet and peaceful.

 _But more than likely it won't be for much longer_ , Fawn thought.

Although it was only a couple of days since the Tragers had secluded themselves as Tig recovered from his injuries, father and daughter had managed to find ways to get on each other's nerves and at each other's throats.

Tig had not been a happy camper when he discovered that his brothers were being denied access into his home. Even though he had kept the house as his own private sanctuary for years, the fact remained that he missed being around his SAMCRO family. Even considering how tired he would get, Tig had thoroughly enjoyed the visits his Club brothers and their old ladies had made while he was in the hospital. He should have known that his snarky little turd of a kid had been deadly serious when she downright kicked Jax, Opie, and Tiki out of his house on his first day back.

Although he should have guessed that Fawn was keeping pussy at bay as well, Tig had suffered something akin to a seizure when he found out that Jolene Teller had the door slammed in her face when she had stopped by to check on him. Even though Jolene wasn't his pussy—and he would be picking parts of his colon from his teeth if Jax ever heard him refer to Doll Face as pussy—she was still nice to look at. Tig would never make this admission to anyone, least of all Jax, but Jolene was the one dame whose company he genuinely enjoyed, even if she wasn't there to suck his dick.

He had been home barely a day before Tig had his first blowout with Fawn. He appreciated that she had basically put her life on hold to take care of him here in Charming, but this was the Club she was disrespecting and he was determined to set his kid straight.

"Shit, Fawn. You cannot go throwing your weight around, kicking brothers out of my house and slamming doors in the faces of old ladies, especially _that_ one! What? You gotta death wish?" Tig had raged. "In this house, I'm the king and what I fuckin' says goes!"

But Fawn wasn't going for it. "That's where you're wrong, shithead. Consider this a siege of your precious castle and, until I say otherwise, your ass is on lockdown."

To further exert her authority over his care and well-being, Fawn had taken his prepay and removed the land line from his bedroom. She had laid down the law, knowing that he would probably kick her out if he could. For the next two weeks, _she_ was calling the shots. If he didn't want her to go all _Misery_ on his ass, he was going to do exactly what he was told.

"You may already be an invalid, but I have no problem hobbling you further." Fawn threatened. She had almost laughed out loud seeing the genuine shock reflected in her father's eyes.

"You don't have the balls!" Tig nearly growled.

"You sure you wanna take your chances on believing that, Sparky?" Fawn gave him a maniacal grin as she moved her intertwined hands from her shoulder and out in front of her like she was swinging a bat. "I already bought the sledgehammer and it has your name written all over it." She announced with such conviction that Tig wasn't sure if she was kidding or not.

Deciding to err on the side of caution for the sake of his ankles, Tig kept his mouth shut all the while staring daggers at his bat-shit crazy kid. With a triumphant smirk, Fawn turned around to leave his room when Tig's universal remote suddenly flew past her head, landing on the carpeted hallway floor.

Bending over, Fawn picked it up. "Thanks. Saves me the trouble of taking this away from you, too."

"BITCH!"

"Damn straight! And only because my daddy made me that way." She flashed her father a sweet smile before exiting the room with his remote.

 _Round 1 goes to Fawn Trager_ , she thought proudly _._

The victory, however, was short-lived because after an hour of coaxing, begging, and threatening, Tig had managed to get Rocco to retrieve the remote for him.

"Damn dog has no fuckin' loyalty!" She had groused loudly as Rocco pranced by her proudly, remote in mouth, as he headed towards Tig's room.

The following day brought the next round of the Trager family smack down when Tig requested a beer with his lunch. Fawn had to break the bad news that she had completely cleared out his stash of booze and weed. Upon further reflection, she had Tiki retrieve from the Clubhouse storage room one carton of cigarettes.

 _After all, there was no need to actively court a death sentence_ , Fawn reasoned with herself. Tig had been patient enough to teach Rocco to retrieve a damn remote in a day. She wouldn't put it past him to train her own dog to kill her in her sleep.

Regarding the fact that Tig was now residing in a sober house, his reaction had been about as extreme as she had expected it would be.

"I want my shit back! Just because you're on the fuckin' wagon doesn't mean that I have to be too!"

"Guess what? This is not a democracy and you don't get a vote." Fawn retorted snidely. "Like it or not, there's always plenty of room on _my wagon_ , old man. I'm sure you're a hell of a lot easier to deal with when you're drunk and high, but as long as you're on doctor-prescribed pain meds, all other mood altering substances are banned."

"Those fuckin' pills make me woozy," Tig almost whined. "I can control my pain way better with some weed and a little Jack and still stay alert."

"Alert for what, Rambo? You need to be resting. That's the whole point." Fawn replied. "Besides, I hate to break it to you, but I raided your bar and got rid of all of your friends—Jack, Jameson, Johnny, Jose, Gordon, Jim. The whole fuckin' lot went down the drain." She lied with a straight face.

Tig ferociously bared his teeth at her. "When I get out of this bed," He said quietly. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya."

" _I_ don't have to wait until you get better. I can take you out right now with a butter knife and Rocco can dig a pretty big hole in the backyard." Fawn retorted. "You've been warned."

"What about my weed?" Tig grabbed fistfuls of his own hair. "Please tell me you didn't flush it."

Fawn winced. "Sorry, I can't. That would be lying."

"FUCK!"

Needless to say, Round 2 had gone to Fawn as well. But even though it had been a couple of tense days between the SAA and his headstrong daughter, Fawn wasn't completely heartless.

Despite taking away some of his favorite toys, she set about making sure that he had everything else he needed. With a 40" flat screen TV on the wall in his bedroom, satellite television and a DVD player, he had plenty to keep him entertained. It also helped that, despite his grumbling to the contrary, he had a soft spot for Rocco. The feeling was apparently mutual as the lovable dog chose to spend a lot of time in her father's room at the foot of his bed.

Short of returning his booze and weed, Fawn assured him that whatever he needed or wanted, she was at his beck and call. She hadn't expected, however, that Tig would ask her to go through his massive porn collection, both print and film, in order to pull out some of his all-time favorites.

No child ever, _ever_ wants to confront a parent's sex life in such a head-on manner and she was no exception to the rule. Fawn, who thought she had seen and heard everything, couldn't help but cringe, getting a whole new education as she went through her father's magazine collection. It skeeved her immensely and had almost been too much for her to take, but just as she was considering throwing in the towel by loosening her outsider ban, it dawned on her.

_The asshole is torturing me on purpose!_

With her game face on, Fawn handed a gleeful Tig all of the requested magazines and, without being asked to, loaded his multi-disc player with a vast assortment of DVDs. Almost panicking as Tig picked up his remote, Fawn quickly, but calmly headed out of his room and closed the door firmly behind her. Hoping to keep whatever sounds that were bound to escape from Tig's bedroom from reaching her ears, Fawn decided that it was the perfect time to run the vacuum cleaner in the living room before starting on dinner.

Fawn prided herself on being something of a self-taught gourmet. Unlike a lot of her rail thin co-workers at the salon, who existed on a strict diet of undressed lettuce leaves and non-fat, extra skinny lattes, Fawn wasn't. She was a tall gal with the kind of curves that men, not boys, liked to play with. As much as she was all about eating healthy and organic, the point was she liked to eat. And much like being a hairstylist let her exercise her creative side, the same could be said about cooking.

Fawn smiled to herself when she remembered how her father had nearly drooled all over himself on his first night home when she brought him his dinner. Knowing how he barely touched his food while in the hospital, Fawn had cooked him up a feast of roasted lemon and thyme chicken with red new potatoes, fresh corn on the cob and roasted broccoli with garlic and butter sauce. Everything had been organic, including the expensive free-range chicken. Although working with only one hand, Tig had managed to eat it all and nearly wiped the plate clean with his tongue.

"That was some pretty good shit, Fawnzy. Even that green stuff."

"It's called broccoli, Dad." She said wryly.

"Uh huh. Still good shit, though."

Over the next few days, as Fawn got into the swing of things in between their constant bickering, she continued to feed the seemingly starving man. But now, with a planned Round Three about to go down, Fawn decided that it was time to pull out the big guns.

Tonight would be the first official session of Trager Family Therapy.

Wheeling a small serving cart carrying two covered plates into the bedroom, Fawn grinned as she saw her father's eyes widen in appreciation. Rocco, who was stretched out in his now-usual spot at the foot of Tig's bed, barked a welcome.

"You know I could get used to this shit." Tig snarked. "You've been torturing my ass all afternoon with the smells coming from that kitchen. I'm gonna have to do a shitload of working out after I get this cast taken off. You're turning me into a fat bastard."

"Actually, you'd be surprised by how healthy you've been eating. And not to bring up a sore subject, but by cutting out all that excess booze, I'm sure you've dropped a few pounds." Fawn explained. "But tonight, I thought you deserved something special, something nice and homey." She placed a large platter on a tray over his lap and whipped off the cover with great flourish.

"Hot damn! Meatloaf!" Tig exclaimed.

"And mashed potatoes with gravy and not a green thing in sight. Eat up." Fawn smiled at the childlike gleam in his eyes.

Tig let out a long, hearty moan as he swallowed a mouthful. "Shit, Fawnzy. I think this is better than Gemma's." He marveled as he scooped another bite into his mouth.

_You know despite wanting to kill her, living with my kid might not turn out too bad._

Even considering their differences, Tig was enjoying his time with Fawn. Not being able to watch her grow up first hand and having lost touch over the last couple of years, Tig was only now getting the chance to see how she had turned out. In spite of a not-so-stellar upbringing and being chased by her demons as a teenager, Tig figured that, as far as bitches went, Fawn had her head screwed on pretty straight. Remembering how serious she had been as a little girl, it should have come as no real surprise to him anyway.

It suddenly dawned on Tig that, even though he loved both his girls and would willingly give up his own life for them without question, he hardly knew them. The last time he had lived with his girls, Fawn had been 6 and Dawn 8. Times were different back then and it had been easier to relate to them as kids.

Although his house was his private retreat, Tig knew that being in it by himself with Fawn was going to be a little awkward, to say the least, which was why he had practically begged Jax to send some of his brothers over to act as a buffer. He wasn't used to having bitches around, with the exception of Gemma, who had been invited, and Jolene, who had barged her way in. But since he had willingly handed over the reins to his daughter as caregiver, he found that he and Fawn were doing all right.

Unfortunately, things were about to take a sharp left and the SAA hadn't seen it coming.

"That was great, Fawnzy." Tig laid his fork down and let out a loud belch.

"I guess I should be happy with that, huh?" Fawn, who had already finished her grilled chicken salad and baked potato swimming in fresh organic butter and chives, got up to remove the dirty dishes.

"Well, you know me, sweetheart." Tig shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not much good at flattery and compliments."

"Unless I'm a hot babe," Fawn muttered under her breath. "Then you'd be dropping lines like nobody's business."

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing, Dad. I'll be right back."

Depositing the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Fawn inhaled a deep breath and then picked up the large canvas bag that was sitting on the kitchen table before heading back to her father's bedroom.

Tig had the TV remote in his hand when Fawn entered his room and as quick as a snake, snatched it away from him.

"Hey!" Tig exclaimed. "It's my turn to choose tonight and I ain't watching no chick flicks." They had spent the last couple of nights watching TV after dinner until late. "There's going to be an epic cage fight on pay-per-view. Since I can't watch my brothers killing it in the ring at the Clubhouse, I gotta get my thrills on somehow."

Placing the TV remote on the dresser along with the bag next to the vase of blue delphiniums, Fawn turned around to face her father. With her arms crossed and a gimlet look in her eye, Tig realized that the shit was about to hit the fan.

"You can watch grown men beating the chum out of each other some other time, Dad. We have some of our own shit to work out and now is as good as time as any." Fawn announced.

Alexander Trager was not a stupid man. A man doesn't survive over 30 years as a one-percenter without some smarts. He had seen this moment coming down the pike, but had been hoping to put it off for a while longer because anyone who knew the crazy blue-eyed SAA knew that Tig was not a touchy-feely kind of patch. While Bobby was known to be the conscience and unofficial counselor of the Club, Tig was known for two things: fuckin' and killing shit, his two favorite pastimes. So hearing the "We need to work shit out" line come out of the mouth of a broad made his colon clench.

Although Tig would not admit it to anyone, hearing his daughter jerking his President around as he came out of his coma had been the most beautiful sound in the world. Even better than the roar of his Harley's engine. Not only was he alive, but his kid, who he hadn't seen in two years, was at his bedside.

His relationship with Fawn had been somewhat rocky throughout the years and Tig knew he had no one to blame but himself. He couldn't even place the blame on Colleen with a straight face. Sure his estranged wife had taken the kids and moved to Oregon, but that only made staying in touch with them hard, not impossible. Years of random phone calls here and there and increasingly rarer visits had not endeared Tig to his children. Dawn only sought him out when she was in a bind and needed something.

Fawn, on the other hand, had always made the effort to stay in touch, but with the frequency with which he changed burners that was almost impossible. She had all but resigned herself to waiting for him to call, but even that changed after her crazy older sister's last visit. Since then, Fawn had refused to have anything to do with him. The last time he called, Tig had been greeted with a resounding "FUCK OFF!", before she hung up on him.

In spite of the guilt he felt (or because of it) or the fact that he was essentially trapped in his own home with her, there was no way that Tig was going down Memory Lane unless he was dragged kicking and screaming.

Putting on his best Grr-face, he tried to get out of it. "I ain't playing Fawnzy. Hand over that remote."

"Or what, Tigger? You gonna shit the bed because that's just about all you're capable of now." Fawn challenged.

Eyeing the resolute expression on her face, Tig had to resort to taking a page from the good ol' fuckin' Man Handbook. Tucking his good arm behind his head, he leaned back against his pillows, his deep blue eyes staring off into space.

"Do you believe this shit, Rocco?" Fawn addressed her dog as he cocked his head to the side, his floppy ears perking up. "He's giving me the silent treatment. Is the big bad biker too scared of having a heart-to-heart with me? Or is he just being an asshole as usual?"

Turning to burn a hole through Fawn, Tig grimaced. "I ain't afraid of shit, little girl."

Fawn's equally icy deep blue eyes widened in mock shock. "Really? Is that so?" Let's find out, shall we? Get off the bed, Rocco." She ordered and Rocco complied as she marched over to the dresser. Digging her hands into the canvas bag, Fawn pulled out its contents and slammed two objects at the foot of the bed, just out of her father's reach.

As Tig looked down, the ex-Marine and SAA of the mother chapter first cringed and then shuddered throwing his arm over his face to hide the horrific sight from his eyes.

"You are one twisted little bitch!" Tig growled. "Get those fuckin' freaks off my damn bed!" He yelled, referring to the two life-like infant baby dolls sitting at his feet, their bright blue human-like eyes staring eerily at him.

Tempted to leave the dolls right where they were and walking out of the room, Fawn's mouth curled at the corner into a very Tig-like grin. "Now we're gonna talk some shit out, old man."

* * *

Finally giving in to Tig's almost-begged request to remove her secret weapons from his line of sight, Fawn dropped them back into the canvas bag before settling down at the foot of her father's bed.

"Look, babe. If this is about your sister—" Tig started.

"Yeah," Fawn nodded. "Some of it is about Dawn, but that shit can wait a minute."

Fawn took a deep breath. After years of trying to deal with what Tina called her _daddy issues_ , Fawn was finally sitting across from the man she loved like no other. Unfortunately, her father had the innate ability to inspire her hate with an equal amount of fervor. She was suddenly feeling very pissy as so many thoughts rolled around her head, making it hard to focus on just one. Tired of trying to put the talking points she had come up with earlier in any coherent order, Fawn finally blurted out the first thing that came to mind, the thing that was ultimately at the heart of everything that was wrong with their relationship.

"Why did you leave us, Dad?"

"Aw shit." Tig groaned as he ran his ringed hand over his face. In spite of the tense set of his daughter's shoulders and her hands with electric blue polish on her nails clenched into tight fists, her demeanor was seemingly calm. Only when he looked into her eyes could he see the anger and the sadness reflected in them. That was a look he was familiar with. He had seen it reflected back at him at least the million and one times he had looked in the mirror and thought about his girls. "Honey, I left Tacoma. I didn't leave _you_."

"That's not how I see it. And I only ever heard one side of the story, Dad. Did you really think Mom would go out of her way to paint you in a good light?" Fawn's voice shook with emotion. "All I was told was that you left us behind to come to Charming and that you didn't try to stop Mom from taking us to Oregon. I don't know about you, but that to me seems like you abandoned your family for a fuckin' motorcycle club. I was six, Dad. How do you think that made me feel?"

Tig wasn't about to defend himself. He knew she had every right to feel the way she did. "You must have felt like shit." He replied honestly, leaning forward and reaching for her hand, which Fawn pulled out of his grasp. "Fawnzy, I left Tacoma, but I _never_ left you or your sister. Like you said, sweetheart, you only ever heard one side of the story. I'm not saying that I don't bear any fault in this shit, but maybe you want to hear my side first before you set me out to pasture as the worst deadbeat father in the history of fucked up men like me."

Pinching the bridge of her nose as she squeezed her eyes tight, Fawn had her doubts that any good could really come from the 22 years of pain she was feeling weighing down on her again. She was considering telling Tig to forget she had brought it up. They could go back to the routine she had set out for them these past few days and when Tig was back on his feet, she would go back home to Seattle and forget about him and their non-existent relationship.

Opening her mouth to tell him just that, Fawn was surprised when she heard herself say something else instead. "I'm listening, Dad."

Tig sighed. This was not going to be easy. "Coming to Charming was absolutely, 100% my decision. You may not understand this, Fawn, but the Club is more than just a brotherhood. It's my livelihood, the only thing I have ever been any good at. Making the move to the mother charter was not only a good move for me when it came to my standing in the Club, but it was going to be a good move for our family. I'm not gonna get into the specifics of Club business, but earning in Tacoma wasn't easy. When I first hooked up with your mother, we were living in a shitty trailer park near the highway. I had promised her a real home where we would raise our family in, but the best I could eventually do was a small apartment over a storefront. SAMTAC may have been the bigger charter, but they were cash poor.

"So when SAMCRO reached out and asked me to take over as the new SAA, I jumped. Not only was it a chance for me to earn more, but Charming has a homey vibe and with the Club running the show, I knew it would be a safe place for all of my girls, your mom included, but she didn't see it that way. She gave me shit about moving, leaving behind her friends and the big city life. I had to make the move quick or I was gonna lose out big, so I patched into SAMCRO. I figured Colleen would eventually toe the line and come with, but a few weeks before the move some bug crawled up her ass." Tig said a little sheepishly.

"Bug, huh?" Fawn smirked. "I think it was more like a dead cat that crawled up Mom's ass, don't you?" She shuddered a little at the memory.

"Yeah, my bad. That shit was kinda twisted and totally on me." Tig replied, recalling how a former girlfriend had shown up out of the blue and tossed her dead cat, which he had accidently killed, on the Trager's welcome home mat outside their apartment. Five-year old Fawn had the misfortune of opening the door and making the horrible discovery.

"I guess that shit kinda pushed your Mom over the edge. She was so pissed that at the time I thought it was a good idea for her to take you and Dawn to see your grandparents. It would give me a chance to get shit settled in Charming and your mom a minute to calm down. A few weeks became a month and before I knew it, two months of unreturned phone calls had gone by before I realized that she had a serious beef. I hauled ass to Oregon as soon as I could, but she told me to fuck off and that she was staying put. With things going a little sideways for the Club back in Charming, I figured I'd let her cool her heels. Shit always had a way of sorting itself out between Colleen and me.

"But by the time things settled down in Charming, your mother had gone back to school, determined to do shit without me. That's when I fucked up. I should have dragged her ass down here with you kids when I had the chance, but I didn't. She said some truly horrible things," _She went so far as threatening to kill you kids and herself if I forced her to make the move_ , Tig thought, but would never say out loud. He had lost his shit and had smacked Colleen around for saying such evil things to him. "After that, not even this house would have changed her mind."

"This house?" Fawn queried.

Tig nodded. "I bought this place for my girls. I was making money hand over fist once I made the move to SAMCRO. Between working at T-M and the Club, I had earned enough for a big down payment. This baby's been paid off for years."

Fawn blinked her eyes in shock. "Why the hell didn't Mom tell us?"

"She didn't know." Tig shrugged his shoulders as his daughter stared at him in anger. "Colleen's life back then was all about going back to school. She was tired of being an old lady and all the shit that came with it. This house sat empty for a long time before I let Gemma off her chain and she turned it into a retreat for me. I've added shit to it over the years, but it was strictly a place for me to just chill out. Living here full-time without you guys just didn't feel right to me."

"Shit!" Fawn muttered. "You realize that both you and Mom are a pair of pig-headed assholes! Oregon was really shitty for us, Dad. Maybe if you had told Mom about the house and how much you wanted your family back she would have caved. We could have been together as a family."

Knowing that this whole situation was more his fault than anyone else's, Tig took Colleen's side. "Look, Fawnzy, don't blame your mother for this. Truth is, I was a shitty husband and father and had it coming. All I really want you to get out of me telling you all this is that you and your sister were never to blame for any of it. And I'm really sorry if you ever felt that you were."

Fawn ran both of her hands through her hair and yanked on it to relieve some of her internal pain and stress. Hearing her father's side had been enlightening to say the least, but it still didn't relieve all of her pain.

"Did it ever occur to you that if you had just kept your dick in your pants maybe Mom would have been more willing to work shit out?" She asked angrily.

"Sure, yeah," Tig shrugged. "Wasn't gonna happen, though." Fawn's eyes were flashing murderously at her father. "Hey, sweetheart, I'm just being honest here. I love pussy, but them bitches never meant shit to me. I thought Colleen understood that."

"Apparently, she didn't." Fawn replied.

"Apparently not." Tig agreed.

As father and daughter sat in virtual silence, Fawn contemplated all he had said. She had to admit that hearing his side of the story made her see things from a different perspective. Maybe, Fawn was willing to concede, Tig Trager wasn't such a tool after all. However, what Tig had just shared may explain what caused the break-up of their crazy-as-shit marriage, but it didn't answer why she saw her father only a handful of times while growing up.

"Okay, from what you've told me, you and Colleen had a fucked up relationship. I get that. But, Dad, regardless of what happened between you and Mom, Dawn and I were still your family. Coming to see us only once or twice a year? That shit's just wrong."

"I know, I know, but your mother was such a pain in the ass." Tig grumbled. "Besides, it was a lot easier when you were little girls. You and Dawn thought I was a rock star, acted like I hung the fuckin' moon. It kinda scared me a little that as you got older you wouldn't see me that way any more."

"Damn straight, but I would have preferred seeing you as you are rather than never seeing you at all." Fawn insisted, the tears she had been holding back finally springing from her eyes. "You don't have any clue what you not being around did to us, do you? What it did to _me_."

Looking at his beautiful daughter shed tears over him made Tig's heart clench in his chest. "No, I don't, sweetheart. Maybe you should tell me." He almost whispered.

* * *

The fact that Tig looked and sounded sincere when he said he wanted to hear her side was like opening a floodgate. Once Fawn started talking, she wasn't sure she could stop.

"I hated Oregon. Mom swore we were just going on a little vacation and I believed her. I was six and up until then, all I kept hearing about from you was this magical place called Charming. It's stupid, but it sounded like a fairytale place to me and I couldn't wait to get there." Fawn explained. "You have no idea how devastated I was when Mom told us we were staying in Eugene and that you wouldn't be coming with us. I couldn't understand why. I just kept waiting for you to show up one day and take us all back home. Instead, we spent the next three years living in a cramped hoarder's paradise with Grandma and Grandpa while Colleen went back to school. I am so proud of my mom for getting her nursing degree, but that only led to shit changing again. She graduated and we could finally move into a place of our own, but she was working long shifts at the hospital. Dawn and I may have had our issues with each other over the years, but she was 11 years old and stepped up to take care of me, her little sister, when she needed to be taken care of as well. We ended up taking care of each other because it felt like we had been abandoned by both our parents.

"Shit just got heavier to deal with the older I got. I don't know if you can understand just how fucked up shit can get for a teenage girl dealing with abandonment issues. I was looking for attention by doing all the wrong things, things no sixteen year old should have knowledge about. Hanging out led to partying, which led to drinking and smoking weed, which led to harder shit. I'd go to parties during school hours where heroin and coke were passed around like snacks." Looking her father in the eye, Fawn stopped and took a deep breath. "I lost my virginity to a 38 year old stoner with acne who still lived with his mommy, and all because he promised he would hook me up with his pot dealer. I ended up paying $120 for a quarter ounce of _oregano_. The truly sad and pathetic part was that I was so fucked up and strung out, I tried smoking it anyway." Stopping, Fawn ran her hands over her face.

For years, she hadn't let herself think about the douche bag that had conned her into letting him be her introduction to intimacy with men. Needless to say, that experience had been horrible and embarrassing, and unfortunately, had tainted every relationship she's had since. Fawn had known, however, that sorting out the Trager's dirty laundry was going to be harsh. She had worried about the impact that opening old wounds would have on her sobriety because honestly, for the first time in years Fawn felt like she needed a drink. Seeing her father watching her speak with a mixture of pain, anger, and self-loathing reflected on his face reminded her that she wasn't alone in all this. There was plenty of hurt to go around, but she wasn't looking to pass the buck.

Grabbing his hand, Fawn squeezed it between both of hers. "Dad, I'm not blaming you or Mom for all the bad decisions I made. No one forced me to smoke weed, get piss drunk, or shoot H. That's not what this is all about. After all these years, what I'm having trouble getting past is that it took me nearly OD'ing to get you two to realize that I was hurting. You were quick to rally around me then as a family, but once I was in recovery, it was like I stopped existing again. Do you have any idea what it's like to believe that you only matter to the people you love when you're knocking on death's door, like you were some sort of fuckin' obligation? To realize that no matter what I did—good or bad—that Dawn was and would _always_ be the favorite one?" Fawn asked angrily.

Listening to his daughter pour her heart out, Tig was hard pressed not to shoot himself in the fucking head. It hurt realizing that a lot of Fawn's emotional baggage could be laid at his door and all because she believed that he didn't really love her.

"Come here."

Fawn looked at her father with wide eyes as she swiped away at the tears that she hadn't realized were falling down her face again. Fawn tried to convince herself that the last thing she wanted was to be comforted by the man who had caused her so much pain. She would prefer to wallow in her anguish and self-pity, but looking into eyes so similar to her own, moist with unshed tears, Fawn suddenly found herself crawling into her father's arms.

As Tig stroked the dark red hair of his sobbing daughter, he felt like a piece of shit.

Mopping at her face with the edge of his bed sheet, Tig bent over and kissed Fawn's forehead. "Fawnzy, baby, I'm so fuckin sorry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that you're wrong feeling the way you do because you're not. I can't sit here and lie to you, either. Yeah, sometimes I _did_ cater more to your sister, but it wasn't because I loved you less. Out of the two of you, she seemed the most like me." Tig explained as Fawn pulled away to look him in the eye as she rubbed the tears off her cheeks with the heel of her hand. "Don't get me wrong. Both you girls are crazy as fuck, but even as a little kid you had a better handle on shit than your older sister ever did. And from what I can tell, you still do. You just lost your way for a little bit, but you found yourself no thanks to me. I worry about Dawn in ways I never have to worry about you, kid. She hasn't found herself yet, so yeah, she only comes to me when she's in trouble. Dawn tries to work shit out for herself, but she fucks up royally. She's not like you, sweetheart. You tough shit out. Dawn needs someone to pick her up."

Fawn shook her head. "Last time she came to you, she was feeding you some bullshit story about me relapsing. And you believed her." The hurt in her eyes was ripping Tig's gut apart. "After 10 years of living clean, she shows up, feeding you a line about me needing to go back to rehab and, instead of picking up the phone and calling me, you take her word for it. You actually believed her and gave her $12,000 based on nothing more than a fuckin' lie!"

"Baby, I never believed that shit for a minute."

Looking into Tig's eyes, Fawn realized that what Tiki had told her was true. Her father was telling her the truth. "Dad, if you didn't believe it why did you give her the money?"

"She came to see me, sought me out. Dawn hardly does that." Tig explained. "I was able to keep her around for a couple of days before she split and it was nice. We talked about old times and reminisced, but I never believed her when she said you had relapsed, baby, you gotta believe that. Instead of calling her out on her bullshit story, I just enjoyed the time with her. But, hey," He started, wagging a finger at her. "This family shit's not one-sided, you know. _You_ could pick up the phone and call your old man every once in a while too."

Fawn winced a little. _He's got a point_ , she thought. "Guilty as charged, but still, you could have called and told me what she was up to. I could have saved you _twelve thousand bucks_."

Tig shook his head. "I didn't want you knowing that your sister was down here talking shit. The fact was, I was more than happy to remain clueless about the con she was pulling. Gemma, however, couldn't resist dropping her two cents in it and called your mother. Colleen told Gemma that you were fine and, in turn, I guess she told you what Dawn was up to."

"Yeah and it pissed me off on two points!" Fawn said angrily. "You didn't bother calling me _and_ you went to Mom instead."

"Fuckin' hell, Fawn! Are you deaf?! _I_ didn't do shit. I told you it was Gemma." Tig growled. "Besides, you still haven't acknowledged the fact you coulda called me. I would've given it to you straight, Fawnzy. As a matter of fact, _I tried_ , but you fuckin' hung up on me."

"I think the fact that I drove like a fuckin' lunatic to get to your bedside before you fuckin' croaked on me counts for something." She argued petulantly.

"Why should it?" Tig asked with a furrowed brow. "It didn't count when I did it for you ten years ago. Yeah, I dropped the ball on you and your sister plenty of times, but I was there when you were in the hospital. I took you to rehab. I may have missed a birthday or two—"

"Or a hundred." Fawn said bitterly.

Tig glared at her. "A hundred? Really? How fuckin' old are you?"

"You know what I mean, asshole." Fawn rolled her eyes.

"The question is, _do you know what I mean_? I'm not good with words, sweetheart. I may not have been there for a lot of birthdays and shit, but I was there when it mattered." Tig's voice was soft, brimming with emotion. "I supported you through rehab, paid for beauty school, even set you up in your first apartment in Seattle."

Fawn stared at her father. _Shit, I hate it when he's being rational_ , she thought, finally understanding what he was saying. She still had to bust his balls about it, though.

"I get it, Dad. You don't deal well with emotion and you don't know how to talk to a woman unless she's on her knees," She said sarcastically, but softened her tone for what she had to say next. "But you can't just throw money at me and Dawn—well, at me, anyway—and expect me to feel _loved_. I need to hear it now and again. I mean, we can talk and cry it out all we want, but nothing's gonna change the past. I wanna make a difference in the present. I need my father to love me."

Tig's eyes were wide and unmoving. He was afraid to blink and have his barely under control tears run down his face. "Baby girl, you know I do."

"Arrrgh! Damn it, Dad!" Fawn practically roared. "Three simple words and you can't even bring yourself to say them to me! What kind of fucked up shit did _your_ parents do to you?!"

Tig's shock quickly turned to laughter. "Let's just say that growing up Trager is a pretty twisted experience."

"You think?" Fawn wanted to scowl at the curly-haired freak she was blessed with as a father, but laughed instead.

Sobering up, Tig said, "I love you, Fawn. Always have. Don't ever doubt that."

Wiping a sudden stream of tears, Fawn smiled. "I know, Dad."

Tig snapped his head back like he'd been slapped. " _You know_?! What the fuck you been busting my balls for then?!"

Fawn raised her hands. "Calm the fuck down! Sometimes a girl needs to hear that shit, a'ight?!" She smirked.

Tig shook his head. "I can't deal with you when I'm sober." He smiled. "We good?"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "For now."

It was definitely a good start. Airing out their dirty laundry and shedding a few tears in the process had liberated something within her. It took Fawn a minute to figure out what it was until she realized that she wasn't angry anymore. She felt light and hopeful. It would take some time for them to find the right balance as father and daughter, but now Fawn was confident that things would get better.

_All in all, I think Round 3 was a draw._

* * *

After the Tragers first "therapy session", Fawn was worn out mentally and emotionally. For years she had known only Colleen's interpretation of the events that had shaped the lives of the Trager girls. Finally getting to see how shit looked from the other side of the fence had been an eye-popping experience.

There was no way around it, however. Both of her parents had acted like immature teenagers playing house and not fully-grown adults in a situation of their own making. Ultimately, it had been Fawn and her sister who paid the price for their parents' dysfunctional behavior.

The past would always remain the past, but at least now Fawn had a markedly better view of Tig's failings as a parent after hearing his side of the story. Good or bad, Tig Trager was the only father she'd ever have, so she had to do what she could to make their relationship better. That and she loved the asshole. Fawn hadn't said so out loud, but in her eyes, her father would always be a rock star. She had gone too long without him in her life and she was finally coming to terms with the fact that she couldn't live like that anymore.

Fawn hoped that what she had planned for this evening's entertainment would jump start the re-bonding process between them.

After cleaning up after dinner, Fawn made her way into Tig's bedroom and snatched up the remote that was lying on his bed. Seeing the now-all too familiar resolve in her eyes, Tig braced himself for another therapy session. Over the course of the past week they had shared many talks, some of which had been reasonable and calm while others had bordered on mayhem with them screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. Tig wasn't sure what he was in for tonight, but he was determined to see it through, no longer resistant to getting in touch with his "girly" emotions.

 _At least Fawn doesn't have those creepy dolls to bully me around with anymore_ , Tig smirked to himself. He had been serious when he said he wanted them out of his house. _If she wasn't gonna listen, then maybe she shouldn't have left my guns in the nightstand_.

"So what's up now, Fawnzy? Is this another part of some 12-step program shit?" Tig shuffled around in bed making himself comfortable.

"Nope. Tonight I thought we could do something fun for a change." Tossing a tablet into his lap, Fawn walked around to the other side of the bed and sat next to him.

"What's this shit?" Tig carelessly waved the tablet around.

"Hey, hey, be careful. You're gonna drop it and its fuckin' priceless." She grabbed it from him and turned it on. "It's full of fond Trager family moments."

"Huh?"

"Look." Fawn double-tapped an icon that opened up into a series of photos. Choosing one, she opened it so that it filled the entire screen. "Remember this?"

"Oh shit," Tig breathed as he saw the picture of him with his two girls in happier times, all three of them wearing giant Uncle Sam hats for the Fourth of July. He had his arms around them both, one hand shoving the red, white and blue hat down over Fawn's head as the other squeezed Dawn's shoulder. "That was the time we went to the fair. How'd you get these on here? This pic had to be pre-digital, right?"

Fawn grinned. "I got dragooned into cleaning out Gram's house after Grandpa passed away. I found a box of pictures and the negatives Mom must have left behind. I had them converted into digital photos. Look," She said as she dragged her finger across the screen revealing more pictures.

For the next half hour the two of them laughed and reminisced about the good times they had as a family—pictures of him arm wrestling five-year old Fawn, another pushing seven-year old Dawn on a swing.

Things were going pretty well until they got to a picture of Colleen Trager sitting behind Tig on his bike, which was parked in a long row of other bikes. It was the one photo of her mother that had always puzzled Fawn. Both her parents looked very young, her mother especially so. As far as Fawn could remember, Colleen had always claimed to have very little to do with Tig's Club. What was even more peculiar was the way her mother was dressed.

"Dad, when was this taken?"

"That shit was taken a lifetime ago. That's the Tacoma Clubhouse." Tig replied as he ran his ringed hand over the hair on his chin. "You look just like her, you know."

"Really? Mom doesn't look much more than a teenager there. I thought you two meet after she had dropped out of college in her second year."

Tig smiled a rakish grin. "Nah, Colleen was barely 18 when we met. Shit, that bitch was fuckin' hot. To this day I don't think I ever again banged a red-haired sweetbutt as good as your mother."

Fawn's blue eyes nearly doubled in size. "What the fuck did you just say?!"

Tig cringed as ran his good hand through his hair. _Getting shot four times is gonna feel like a blowjob if the old lady finds out I dropped this fuckin' dime. She just might make good on her promise to cut my dick off._

"What? I don't know what you talkin' about. I didn't say shit, honey." He feigned extreme and over-the-top interest in the next photo of his former in-laws.

Fawn sat straight up, pulling herself away from Tig's arm that had been wrapped around her shoulders. "Don't. Just don't. I'm not a moron, Dad. Are you saying that Mom was a sweetbutt? That _she_ was one of those Club whores she was always going on about?"

There was no help for it now. He was in the shit and saw no point in lying about it. Tig shrugged his shoulders. "You make it sound like that was a bad thing."

Fawn's mouth fell open. "Bloody hell, Dad! You better start talking or I'm picking up the phone and I'll ask Mom myself."

Tig was rubbing his brow with his thumb massaging his temple. "Oh, hell's no, baby. Only the good die young, but for me, your mother will make an exception." Peeking through his fingers, he could see that Fawn wasn't budging. "Shit, Fawn!" He sighed. "Alright, already, but you have to promise me that you won't' mention the conversation we are about to have to your mother or your sister."

"You don't have to worry about that. I have no intention of talking to Dawn and Mom is treading on thin ice already, so spill it." Fawn ordered, hunkering down to listen to what she was sure was some life-altering shit.

"I met your Mom in some dive bar in Tacoma when she was about 18 and I was a few years older. She was working as a cocktail waitress and some douche bag customer was pressing up on her hardcore, annoying the shit out of her. I helped her out." In reality, Tig had beat the snot out of the man nearly 30 years older than Colleen before locking his ass in the trunk of his own car.

"A cocktail waitress? Mom said she was going to nursing school in Tacoma when she met you."

"She _did,_ for a while and then she dropped out. _Before_ she met me." It was clear to Tig that his and Colleen's version of how they met were light years apart. Deciding he had already said a lot, Tig failed to mention just how Colleen had thanked him for his help during her break. "Anyway, I was still at the bar when she finished her shift. She was waiting at a bus stop when I pulled up on my ride and offered her a lift. When she saw my ride, she really perked up and asked me if I would take her to a party. We ended up at the SAMTAC Clubhouse. I knew about the Sons and had passed by their Clubhouse a few times. Everybody knew that SAMTAC was where to party, but I didn't have the stones back then to just walk up in there. Colleen was a regular at the Clubhouse and said she could get me in, so we went. Once we got there, I kinda of lost your mom in the crowd." Tig lied. No need to tell Fawn that the then Tacoma VP had scooped her mother up over his shoulder and carried her off to his dorm the moment she set foot inside. "But I ended up hanging out all night, talking to some patches, who later gave me an open invite to party with them. Me and Colleen would hook up—"

"When she wasn't busy _hooking up_ with the Club members?" Fawn asked with just the slightest edge in her voice.

"Uh, sumptin' like that, but she couldn't stay away from the heat I'm packin'." Tig grinned cockily. "She wanted something serious and exclusive between us, but that shit wasn't gonna happen with half of SAMTAC running a train on her. Of course, I had no choice but to put a ring on it after I knocked her ass up four months later."

"How did you end up finally joining the Club?" Fawn asked, curious. "Weren't you a Marine by the time Dawn was born?"

"Yeah, I was. I patched in after getting discharged." Tig said offhandedly. _A psych discharge thanks to that damn noisy_ _goat._

"When I came back, I was all kinds of messed up. I started hanging out at the Clubhouse again, just to blow off some steam. Your mother didn't give me too much shit about it at first until Lorca offered to sponsor me. I think she knew my crazy ass needed an outlet, but conveniently forgot what it was like in the Clubhouse—all the available pussy and shit."

"I'd think I'd want to forget that shit, too." Fawn groused. _Especially if I had been on the menu once myself._

"Yeah, well. She needed to contain that shit. It's not my fault she couldn't deal with the fact that, well, the blue eyes gets 'em wet." Tig wriggled his eyebrows as his daughter rolled her eyes. "What? I thought we are supposed to be all honest and open in our relationship."

"I didn't think I had to point this out, but there are some things I really don't need to know, Dad. Going through your porn collection has already scarred me for life, thank you." Fawn sighed as she looked down at her mother's picture again. "I can't believe this shit. Does explain the hot pants and fishnet stockings, though." She blew her breath between her teeth making a whistling sound. "Damn, I really do look like her."

"Yeah, you do." Tig smiled. "And I know I'm your dad and all, but you are totally fuckable."

Fawn put her hand up as an official sign of protest. "Okay, stop! That's gross."

Tig lit a cigarette one-handed and blew out a trail of blue smoke. "Hey, I told you I don't know my ass from my elbow when it comes to handling this father-daughter shit, especially with a grown woman that looks like you."

"Why, because women are either saints or whores?" Fawn scoffed.

"Well, yeah." Tig replied as if he was talking to an idiot.

"Well, here's a news flash for ya, you freak. _We aren't_. You really need to broaden your horizons and maybe adjust your attitude a little. Women are allowed to vote now, you know." She replied sarcastically.

"I like my attitude the way it is, and just about everybody I know feels the same, so here's a little advice for you—keep your ass away from my brothers. I love them, but I don't want to have to kill any one of them because of you." Tig declared.

"Why? If you love them so damn much, me hooking up with one of them shouldn't be a problem, right?" Fawn teased.

 _Oh, you mean like Opie Winston_ , her inner voice snarked.

 _Shut up,_ Fawn retorted.

Tig eyed his daughter. "Look, all joking aside, Fawnzy. I'm deadly serious about this. I'm not living alone in the fucked-in-the-head department. Some of my brothers are right there with me. You already have a shitty father; you don't need a shitty old man as well."

"Old man?!" Fawn squeaked. "Who's talking about getting an old man?"

"Hey, I already said that your fuckable, right? That shit can also translate into old lady material. With a body like yours, you could find yourself shacked up with one of my asshole brothers before you knew what the fuck happened. I can't take any credit for that shit, but you carry yourself well, sweetheart. I know that some of my brothers are looking. You don't have to draw me a picture, but what's going on between you and Opie?"

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue. " _Me and Opie_? That fuckin' Redwood tree? He's a pain in my ass."

"Well, I've seen him checking out said ass. Can't blame him, but as long as he's just looking, I ain't gonna say shit about it. I'm just saying that Opie is not the one for you."

"And why not?" Fawn challenged.

_Finally, I think I'm going to find out whether Opie was responsible for Dad getting shot._

However, Fawn was completely and utterly floored when her father replied. "Because I'm the reason his old lady's dead."


	8. A Work in Progress

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe** **.**

* * *

" _Because I'm the reason his old lady's dead."_

Fawn was struck speechless as she listened to her father describe the day Donna Winston died.

It had been almost 3½ years since the unspeakable tragedy, but she could see by the look in his eyes that Tig still blamed himself. He was the Club's enforcer, its protector, and he had failed his brother by missing a shot that could have saved the young woman's life. His intended target, a biker from a rival MC, had taken advantage of what was sure to have been a chaotic scene and had run Opie's old lady down. Fawn could almost see the regret and remorse pouring off her father in waves and knew he was telling her the truth, but she also knew that there was more to the story than what he was willing to share.

The room was suddenly quiet and Fawn realized that Tig had stopped talking, his head bowed and his eyes closed. If the stories her mother had told her about her father were true, Tig had seen his share of death. Hell, Fawn even suspected that he had been the cause of some if not most of those deaths. It was obvious, however, that this one in particular, the death of a young mother, his brother's old lady, still haunted him.

If Tig was still so deeply affected, Fawn could only imagine what Opie had gone through, and was probably still going through. It certainly went a long way in explaining why he did very little to hide his dislike for her. After all, she was Tig's daughter.

 _Damn_ , Fawn's eyes widened as she made a possible connection _. Looks like Mom was right after all._ With this type of bad blood between Opie and her father, was it possible that the shooting that almost killed Tig was somehow related? Fawn couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

Reaching out, Fawn grabbed Tig's ringed hand and squeezed gently. "I'm so sorry, Dad," She started softly. "But how is any of this your fault? You tried stopping the man that ran her over. You did what you could."

Tig looked up into Fawn wide, moist eyes. It made his heart tighten in his chest to realize that she was on his side. If she knew the whole truth, would she still be on his side? After their past week together, Tig wasn't so sure he could handle her rejection again.

"It wasn't quite like that, Fawn." Tig replied. "I played a bigger part in her death."

Fawn nervously brushed a hank of red hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "Dad, you're gonna have to tell me a little more than that—"

"I don't think that's a good idea—"

"You just can't drop some shit like this on me without giving me some details so I at least know what I'm dealing with here." Fawn almost pleaded. _Before I jump to any conclusions about Opie_.

The SAA looked at the young woman long and hard before letting out an overly dramatic sigh. "All right. I guess you could say I was suffering from a case of WDS."

" _WDS_? What the hell are you talking about?"

"According to my Prez's old lady, it stands for Wandering Dick Syndrome." Tig replied with all the seriousness of a Viagra commercial.

Fawn couldn't help it. In her mind's eye she could see dozens of dicks, all varying in size, some bending to the left, others to the right, just aimlessly teetering around on little testicle feet desperately trying to find a hole to dive into.

Fawn barely managed to smother a snort before finally allowing the seriousness of the conversation to bring her back to her senses. "Dad! What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell does WDS have to do with the death of Opie's wife?"

In short, succinct sentences, Tig started by sharing his adventure in Lodi with the then-Prospect Tiki Munson. The story went from stopping for some lunch at a dive bar to him banging the waitress who turned out to be an old lady associated with the Calaveras, a rival, yet small MC. The bar fight between Tig and the waitress' old man, who happened to be the CL's President, quickly morphed into a high speed chase, which resulted in a crash that killed the President's cousin after Tig shot at him and the young man hit a barricade head-on.

"Those pieces of shit retaliated by coming after the Club at the Taste of Charming festival. With shots being fired and people panicking and running for their lives, the CL didn't care who they took down. They just wanted to hurt us and Ope's old lady was at the wrong place at the wrong time." Tig explained, his eyes sparking with anger. "Donna Winston was watching Jax Teller's two youngest kids, about 8 months and 3 years old at the time, when the CL launched their attack. Their VP was aiming to run Jax's kids down. I tried to shoot the motherfucker off his bike, but I missed and that's when Donna threw herself into his path to protect them. Her neck was broken. I can only hope that it was quick and she didn't feel any pain."

"Oh my God, Dad," Fawn found her eyes watering as she thought about Opie's grief. "That's horrible."

"Yeah." Tig nodded, wishing he had a bottle of Jack. "It gets worse." He then proceeded to tell Fawn about how, when retaliation against the MC responsible didn't happen fast enough, Opie's father Piney decided to take matters into his own hands. Piney, after attacking the CL Clubhouse and taking out four members, was killed by the same scumbag that killed Donna. "Opie ended up burying almost half of his family because of shit I started."

Fawn ran her hand through her hair. "How did you cope?"

"Badly, for a very long time. My brother wanted me dead and I couldn't blame him. I wanted me dead, too. This was one hole I dug myself into that was destined to turn into a grave. Either Ope was gonna kill me or I was gonna drink myself to death." Tig replied honestly, not quite able to tell by the look on her face on which side of the fence Fawn would now land on. "I was lucky that I had a lot of people, my Club, rallying around me. And Jax's old lady, Jolene. Doll Face was crucial in me getting a handle of my shit."

Tig quirked an eyebrow as he watched a myriad of emotions cross Fawn's face at the mere mention of Jolene Teller. For a brief moment, it looked like his kid had even winced in pain.

"Listen, I don't know what bug's crawled up your ass about her, but you'd be lucky to have a friend like Doll Face in your corner. I know I was." Tig said, prompting Fawn to give him a look that said she thought he had lost his mind. "Donna was her best friend and it was her kids Donna had sacrificed her life for. Jolene had to come to terms with the fact that it could just as easily been her babies in those graves. After accepting the part I played in the whole thing, she helped me see who was ultimately responsible. She also reminded me that no matter what, SAMCRO is family and family sticks together."

Fawn didn't know what to say. It was heart wrenching enough to hear how Opie had lost his wife, but she couldn't help but feel somewhat sympathetic towards Jolene Teller as well. Being faced with the fact that instead of losing her best friend, Jolene could have lost her children or, even worse, all three made Fawn appreciate just how hard being an old lady must be. She wasn't sure she would have had the stones to overcome a situation like that. Although reluctant to admit it, Fawn was glad that her father had people like Jax Teller's old lady helping him through what had to be a dark period in his life. Her feelings of resentment towards Jolene Teller were still there, just beneath the surface of her gratitude, but Fawn knew she had no one to blame but herself.

 _It could have easily been me seeing Dad through this_ , Fawn chastised herself. _But it wasn't_.

"I guess you don't think much of your old man now, huh?" Tig almost whispered, intruding into Fawn's thoughts.

Feeling selfish and petty for envying the relationship Tig had with Jolene, who unlike her sister Dawn, cared for him out of genuine affection and not self-interest, Fawn reached over and wrapped her arms around her father for a hug. Seizing the opportunity of being so close to him, she gave a tuft of his wild and curly hair a hard tug.

"Ow! What the fuck, Fawnzy?!"

"That's for being an idiot." Fawn replied as she pulled away. "Yeah, it sucks what happened, but _Doll Face_ was right. It wasn't your fault. How are things between you and Opie now?" She asked hesitantly.

Tig shrugged his shoulders. "We managed to work our shit out. I still feel like every time he sees me it just reminds him of losing Donna all over again, but Doll Face tells me that's not the case. Considering they're as close as brother and sister, I have no choice but to take her word for it."

Fawn almost rolled her eyes. _How come I'm not surprised that those two would be so chummy_?

Tig narrowed his eyes as he watched his daughter fight what looked like an internal struggle. "What's all this tension I'm reading off of you? You already got something going on with Ope, don't you?"

"No! Get your mind out of the gutter, old man." Fawn retorted just a little too indignantly. "It's just that—Mom kinda said some things—" She started haltingly. "That had me thinking that maybe Opie had something to do with you getting pumped full of lead."

Tig just looked at Fawn with sympathy, sad that she had lost her mind. "Why are you even listening to that conspiracy nutter you call 'Mom'? Listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth. Ready? Opie didn't have _shit_ to do with what happened."

Fawn just stared blankly at her father. "Okay, so what happened then, cause I really wanna know."

Tig shook his head. "Look, baby girl. All I'm gonna tell you is that what happened was the result of a deal going south. Colleen don't know shit. I don't care who she's talking to. This ain't some internal beef gone bad, honey. I promise you that."

The fact was that, on some levels, what had happened with the Meinekes had actually drawn Opie and Tig a little closer. Finding himself in a similar situation where a bad decision he made had led to dire consequences for the Club, Opie now had a better understanding of what Tig had gone through several years earlier. Regardless of the fact that he and Opie had found common ground to bond once again, Tig still didn't want his daughter getting involved with Opie, or any of his brothers, for that matter. She was only in Charming to take care of him while he recovered and then she was heading back to her life in Seattle.

Even if a part of him wished that she would stay.

* * *

Over the next week, Fawn and Tig continued to spend a lot of their time together bonding by eating, watching movies and sports, and talking. Talking invariably, of course, led to arguing, but despite the latter, all of their time together was well spent. Even Tig had to admit that alienating his SAMCRO family had been worthwhile after all.

Sitting on the edge of her bed after taking a shower, Fawn contemplated the last two weeks spent in her father's company as she rubbed rose-scented body butter into her damp skin. She smirked to herself as she realized that, in spite of the differences in their level of craziness, she was more like her father than her sister. It was also great not feeling the need to censor herself—which she hardly ever did, anyway. Her father was no stranger to having totally outrageous and inappropriate shit come out of his mouth and it was nice being with someone she could let her guard down with and relax.

With a little prodding, Tig had opened up about his experiences as a Marine. Hearing what she was sure was a sanitized version of events, Fawn had a better understanding of just what he had lived through while serving in some of the world's hot spots. She could comprehend how some of the crap he had survived would radically shape him into the man he was now. While it didn't totally excuse some of the things he had done, she realized that in his own twisted way her father loved her. They would probably never have the perfect relationship, but the time they had spent together so far could certainly be the start of one.

When talking about Charming, Tig seemed less guarded and more open. Even though he never delved into the Club aspect of his life, he did share some of the good times he had enjoyed with his SAMCRO family. It had made them both sad to realize just how much they both missed out on by Fawn not growing up with him in Charming and being exposed to the MC life. Fawn had lost count of the times he had apologized for not being a more stabilizing influence in her life. If he had, maybe she wouldn't have gone so completely off the rails as a teenager. She didn't say so because she didn't want to hurt his feelings, but Fawn knew he was right.

Sensing her interest in his life after Tacoma allowed Tig to relax and open up and answer Fawn's questions about the Sons and their old ladies. Learning more about Donna Winston through her father's point of view, it was becoming obvious that Opie Winston's old lady had been much loved and well-respected. Something akin to a paragon of virtue, Donna had come from a middle-class background and, against her parents' wishes, had taken up with the outlaw biker Tig described as a "gentle giant". Fawn didn't see it, but Tig assured her that Opie Winston had once been a loving and faithful husband and family man. Hoping to turn her away from hooking up with any of his brothers, Tig insisted that, in spite of Opie's marriage to Donna and his current President's lovey-dovey devotion to his old lady, men were still dogs and none more so than a Clubhouse full of outlaws.

Although she was finding it difficult to reconcile the taciturn and ornery man to the gentle giant her father described, armed with new knowledge regarding the Opie of old, Fawn found herself softening somewhat towards the irritable biker. She for one knew what life-altering pain was like and could understand how certain events could change one's personality drastically. Opie's relationship with Emily was making a lot more sense now. After suffering a tragic end to a near-perfect relationship, it was probably unlikely for Opie to ever let himself get seriously involved with another woman again.

The thought saddened Fawn and, as she finished getting dressed, she couldn't understand why.

 _Bitch, please!_ Her inner voice snarked. _You in denial!_

* * *

"I know this probably makes me sound like a pathetic bitch, but I'm sure am glad to see you two assholes." Tig crowed as his brothers strolled into the room.

"My brother," Clay said with a shit-eating grin as he gave Tig the standard bro-hug. "You were squealing like a girl desperate for rescue over the phone. How could I refuse to come by and see my old friend?"

"Shit," Tig rolled his eyes. "You'd be squealing too if you had to put up with my bitch of a daughter."

"I heard that!" Fawn yelled from the general direction of the kitchen.

"And she apparently has hearing like a bat, too." Bobby laughed as he hugged his brother.

"It's a skill I've perfected trying to keep his punk ass in line." Fawn replied as she wheeled in the serving cart laden with a large pot of coffee and a loaf of homemade pound cake into the bedroom.

"What did I tell you about calling me a _punk ass_?" Tig scowled menacingly.

"Like I give a shit." Fawn responded airily, off-handedly shrugging one shoulder as she poured several cups of coffee.

"Well, damn, little girl. That coffee smells incredible." Clay smiled at Fawn as he accepted the cup she offered. Sitting next to Bobby in one of the chairs Fawn had set up for visitors, Clay stopped right before taking a sip of the robust smelling coffee. "This is real coffee, right? I don't do that decaf shit."

"You do at home. Between your old lady and Kit, you've got no other choice." Bobby snarked as he took a sip of his coffee. "Mmm, excellent shit." He approved.

"Thanks, Bobby. And no, you won't find a drop of decaf, shit or otherwise, in this house. That's actually one of my favorite dark roast blends I had made special for today." She grinned as the former SAMCRO President took a sip, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. "How is it?"

"Like heaven, sweetheart. I hope you have plenty. Oh, and I know you won't be mentioning this to anyone beyond these four walls, right?" Clay raised an eyebrow over the large mug and gave her a flirty wink.

 _The old man's something of a charmer._ Fawn flashed him a flirty grin right back. "Hey, I may be a newbie, but I've been well trained. I ain't no fuckin' rat." She said in her best _Noo Yawk_ accent.

As the men laughed boisterously, Fawn headed for the door.

"Hey! You're not joining us?" Bobby called out.

"I'd love to, but if I don't leave and let Dad cry on your shoulder in private, he's gonna grow a vagina." Fawn teased.

"BITCH!" Tig called out.

"Ah, admit it, old man. You love it." Fawn snarked as she closed the door behind her.

"That one's definitely rocking your DNA, Tigger." Clay laughed.

"Nah, man. That pain-in-the-ass gene she gets from her gash of a mother." Tig groused. "I'm glad she finally let me call you two bastards over because cabin fever was starting to set in. Next call you got would have been from the Coroner reporting a double murder because we would have killed each other."

"Well, she's doing something right, brother." Bobby opined. "You're lookin' good."

Clay had to agree. Despite the cast, his former SAA looked in pretty robust health. "Admit it, you do love it. Having your little girl take care of you makes all the difference in the world."

"Yeah. Fawnzy's a good kid." Tig sighed, reluctantly and briefly wearing his heart on his sleeve for his daughter. "So tell me what the fuck's been going on with the Club, man? I feel like I stepped off the planet for a minute."

For the next long while, Clay and Bobby spent time updating their brother on recent Club activities. It was good to hear that it was business as usual with SAMCRO, but Tig felt like life at the Clubhouse was passing him by as he realized how out of the loop he was.

"Looks like Big Otto won't be heading the Big House Crew for much longer." Clay said off the cuff as he leaned back in his chair and took another sip of the rich coffee.

"What the fuck happened?" Tig asked worriedly, his eyes bouncing between his old friends.

"Can't do that from the outside, brother." Bobby smiled. "Big Otto's up for parole again real soon and, according to Lowen, he may get out this time."

"You're fuckin' with me!" Tig exclaimed as both Bobby and Clay shook their heads. "That shit's awesome, man. How long has he been inside?"

"Thirteen years," Clay replied. "He may or may not have gotten out sooner, but the fuckin' Warden had it hard for him. The glorified bull blocked Otto's last two attempts to get out. The asshole retired six months ago, so let's just say that Otto's chances have improved significantly."

"Yeah, Kit's already planning the mother of all SAMCRO blowouts. He goes before the Parole Board in a couple of months. Hopefully, by then, you'll be back on your feet and at the table ready to welcome our brother home." Bobby said.

"Aw shit, I hope so. It's gonna be good having him back." Tig replied. "You know I owe my patch to him, right? Had it not been for Big Otto, I wouldn't be with SAMCRO. Speaking of officers, how's Chibs handling keeping an eye on Jax?"

"As usual, our Scottish brother is handling his shit," Clay replied. "He'll be glad, though, to see your ass back in gear. How are things looking for you?"

"I got an appointment to see the doc next week to check shit out. I'm dealing with the pain a lot better now that it don't hurt so much." Tig answered. "Tell you what, I'd be a lot better off with a bottle of Jack, man. Can you believe my kid poured out all my fuckin' liquor?"

"Yeah, we heard about that," Clay tried to muffle his laughter. "That's something baby girl would do."

"How didja do it, man?" Tig questioned in all seriousness. "How did you manage shit with Doll Face? You know, how did you get close to your kid without wanting to fuckin' kill her every two damn minutes?"

Clay chuckled as Bobby shook his head. "Cut the girl some slack, asshole." The shaggy-haired Elvis impersonator groused. "She's a good kid and I'm sure you ain't a delight to live with either."

"Nah, it's not even that, man. It's her constant need to 'get in touch with our emotions'. You know me. This touchy-feely bullshit is not my M.O." Tig rubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up even wilder than ever. "I know I fucked things up with my kids and a lot of the shit we've talked about had to be said, but how do we move on? How do I become a better father to a grown-ass woman?"

"You want _my_ advice?" Clay pointed to himself and Tig nodded emphatically. "You just do, brother."

"What the fuck does that even mean?" Tig threw his good hand up as Bobby snickered.

"It means that I, of all people, don't have any one answer for you. Parenthood, no matter at what age you start or what age your kid is, is all trial-by-error. Trust me, I was lucky enough to have baby girl fall into my life when she was just six." Clay started.

"And even at six, Kit came with a shitload of emotional baggage." Bobby interjected.

Clay nodded. "Yeah, and who knows what the fuck would have happened if she had come to me any later than that. It wasn't easy. I didn't know shit about raising kids and girls weren't in my wheelhouse of knowledge. I did have a lot of help, though." He slapped Bobby on the shoulder. "However, I'll tell you this, my friend. When Jolene came back to Charming after falling off the grid, she came back a whole different woman. I'd see flashes of my little girl in those big green eyes, but she had changed. Life had knocked her around a little bit, she had a kid of her own, and an old man in lock-up, but she still needed her daddy. Best advice I can give you, Tiggy, is to follow your kid's lead. She'll let you know exactly what she needs you to be. And if she's like baby girl, you won't have to guess cuz she'll give it to you straight. An 'I love you' every once in a while won't kill ya either."

Tig sat back in his bed, his arm behind his head as he absorbed everything Clay had said.

Addressing Tig, the counselor of the Club decided to speak up. "Aside from wanting to kill each other, you two seem to be doing fine. It's great that you acknowledge her need to have you in her life, Tig, but what I think Fawn might be looking for is knowing that you need her in yours."

"She knows I need her, man." Tig retorted.

"Considering the condition you're in, she's getting what she needs from you because she's taking care of you. All women need to feel needed and wanted, not just by their old men, but by their fathers, too. But what are you doing to make her feel that she's more than just a housekeeper?" Clay chimed in.

"I told you, man. We've been working shit out."

"Well, maybe you need to work on that shit beyond your convalescence." Bobby said. "How about asking her to stick around in Charming for a bit after you're all better?"

As Bobby uttered the words, Tig felt his heart jump in his chest. He knew that was exactly what he wanted. As much as they fought, these past few weeks together have been the happiest of Tig's life. He really loved having his daughter around and was dreading her leaving. The thought of asking her to stay and being rejected, however, paralyzed the otherwise hardcore one-percenter.

"Nah, man." Tig lamented. "Fawnzy's got a life back in Seattle waiting for her. I don't think she intends on sticking around much longer."

"How can you be so sure if you don't ask, shithead?" Clay said. "All this Dr. Phil-type shit she's putting you through must mean something."

"Yeah, it means she wants back into your life." Bobby put his two cents in.

"Exactly. If you want your kid in your life—and by the way, I think this one's a little saner than that other one you got—you're gonna have to suck it up and make the effort to let her know." Clay grinned. "Your pride might take a little beating, but in the long run, it's all worth it."

* * *

It had felt like an extraordinarily long day at work for Jolene. With Abel hanging out at the T-M lot with Kenny afterschool, hopefully Neeta would keep Maddy and TJ occupied as she took some down time to relax a bit. As she parked her Mustang in the driveway, Jolene was already fantasizing about slipping into a hot bath before settling down to help Maddy with her homework as she worked on her lesson plan for the next day.

Entering the house, Jolene quirked an eyebrow. It was too quiet, and quiet was a sound unfamiliar in the Teller household.

"Aw shit," Jolene chuckled to herself, dropping her house keys into the ceramic bowl on the table by the front door. It was quite possible that Neeta Benson, her nanny-slash-good friend and housekeeper-slash-confidante, had finally snapped because of the two youngest and most rambunctious of the Teller brood under her care. "Neeta!" She called out, kicking off her high heels. "I only agreed to duct-taping their mouths as a last resort. My babies better not be tied to some tree in the backyard."

The low rumble of masculine laughter took Jolene by surprise, hitting her in her womanly core. _I know that laugh_ , Jolene closed her eyes and waited to hear the all-too-familiar growl of her old man's voice.

"Babe, what the hell goes on around here when I'm gone on a run?" With her back facing him, Jax was fully appreciating her round ass in the skin tight heather grey pencil skirt she was wearing the hell out of. _It should be against the rules to make conservative look that sexy_ , he smiled to himself.

Even after being with his old lady for so long, coming home was still Jax's favorite part of a run. The look on her face alone when they'd lock eyes for the first time in however long they had been separated was always hot as hell. The look she'd flash him when he'd show up earlier than expected, especially after a long run, gave him a feeling like no other in the world.

Today was no different as Jolene's head snapped to the side to look at him over her shoulder. Minus his kutte, Jax was wearing his standard light wash jeans and sneakers and a blue flannel shirt that matched his eyes. Suddenly feeling re-energized, a coy smile played on Jolene's lips as she realized her old man was eye-fucking her.

"Uh-oh, Teller. Where did you banish Neeta and the kids off to?" She turned around, her brilliant green eyes glittering with fire.

"G-Ma's." Jax shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly as he leaned against the entrance way into the living room. "Babe, I think you know what it means when I cut a run short." He licked his lips, his eyes now taking a leisurely stroll over the front side of her body.

"Hell yeah." Jolene smiled at him wickedly. Unpinning her hair, she gave her head a quick shake to loosen the large, bouncy curls as Jax heard the sound of a zipper opening. Bracing himself with a salacious grin plastered on his face, Jax waited to catch her as she wiggled her way out of the form-fitting skirt. In a heartbeat, his old lady made her way across the foyer and into his arms, her legs a vise around his waist. "It means you miss me . . . _a lot_."

"Hell yeah." Jax managed to mimic before Jolene pulled him in for a kiss, his always-eager mouth quickly taking over. With one arm wrapped around her waist, Jax's ringed fingers dug into the skin of one of her ass cheeks left bare by her thong for support as he swiftly carried her up the stairs.

Entering their bedroom, Jax unceremoniously dropped his wife onto the bed. Jolene's hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt as Jax undid his SAMCRO belt, their eyes never leaving each other's. Deciding that Jax wasn't moving fast enough, Jolene playfully swatted his hands away and finished liberating him from his jeans and boxers as he kicked off his shoes. Spellbound by the beautiful display of the rippling muscles in his arms and shoulders as he bent to remove his socks, Jolene fumbled with her own shirt buttons. Cracking a wicked grin, Jax grabbed hold of the lapels of her dusty pink dress shirt and ripped it off, buttons flying across the room as he tossed the shirt over his shoulder. Reaching for her dainty _and expensive_ bra next, Jolene gave him the stink eye and fobbed his hands away as she hurriedly undid the hooks on the back herself.

Groaning as his old lady released the creamy round orbs from their silky confines, Jax murmured almost to himself, "Fuckin' beautiful." Cupping one breast in the palm of his hand, he bent and sucked the pierced nipple of the other into his mouth. With her chest heaving slightly as she breathed soft and hot against his ear, Jax gently pushed her onto her back, releasing one nipple before greedily latching onto the other.

With her fingers tangled in his hair, Jolene cocked her head to the side and watched him work her tits with his hands and mouth. She was already wet. Jolene could feel the slickness between her legs as she squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache.

"Oh, Jax," She moaned softly. "I missed you too, baby."

Jax growled against her breast before letting go with a wet, popping sound. He trailed hot kisses up her throat and across her jawline until their hungry lips clashed with a stunning force once again. Letting the one hand not tugging at his hair fall to his side, Jolene elicited a sound from Jax he was sure he had only ever made with her as she wrapped her dainty hand around his rock hard erection and stroked.

Smiling against her lips, Jax looked her in the eyes. "Darlin', it's been over a week. Unless you want to end this like right now, I suggest you stop with the hand."

Pulling herself back as far as she could go into the mattress, Jolene laughed. "You mean you didn't rub one out before I got home?" She teased.

"Hey, what happens on a run, stays on a run, right?" Jax started as Jolene narrowed her eyes menacingly at him. "My hand's my road pussy, babe. I ain't bringing that shit home."

Giggling, Jolene pushed Jax off her and onto his back. Pulling himself up until he was leaning against the headboard, he let out a low whistle as he watched his old lady lift her hips off the bed to remove her thong. Rolling onto her knees, Jolene slowly crawled over Jax's long, hairy legs, her ass up in the air. His eyes fixated on the perfect roundness he was dying to grab a hold of as she bounced on his dick, Jax's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Catching him off guard by quickly wrapping her hand, then her lips around the wood he had sprung the minute she had walked through the door, Jolene pushed down until he could feel her throat close tightly around him.

"Fuck! Jo, that's not helping." He groaned, closing his eyes in an effort to block out the beautiful sight of his old lady with her mouth full of his cock. "If the idea is to get me to last longer, babe, sucking my dick's not the way to do it." Jax growled.

Pulling him out of her mouth, Jolene smiled as she continued to stroke him. "I know, baby. I'm rubbing one out for you, so relax and enjoy. We're just getting started." She winked at him wickedly.

"Fuck! Yes!" Jax sat up, letting his hands get lost in her tangle of dark hair as he set the pace, gently guiding her head up and down.

 _Without a doubt_ , Jax closed his eyes as he felt his balls tighten. _Coming home is definitely the best part of a run_.

* * *

Clay would have called it a bitch move, but there was a reason why men like them had man caves in the first place: to get away from their women. After 12 years together, Jax thought he knew his old lady. He quickly realized that he didn't. Who knew that after a marathon lovemaking session itwas the WRONG time to bring up a sore subject with Jolene Morrow-Teller? Timing, it seemed, wasn't Jax's real problem, however. Forgetting the "Morrow" part of his otherwise sweet-tempered wife's disposition was. Her ability to go bat-shit crazy on the drop of a dime was the reason why Jax had beat a hasty retreat to his man cave.

Lighting up a cigarette, Jax tried convincing himself that he needed the solitude to think, but in reality, he was just letting Jolene calm down. Sitting back in his comfortable executive chair behind his desk, he chuckled to himself, recalling barely getting out of their bedroom with his balls intact.

" _Jesus Christ! Don't you dare defend that woman in this house, in this room and certainly not after nearly fucking me blind, asshole!" Jolene raged. "She thought I was a fuckin' sweetbutt!"_

_Jax tried to smother his laughter, but didn't quite manage it as evidenced by the flying pillow that smacked him in the face._

" _You think this shit is funny?!" Jolene made a grab for the alarm clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed._

" _Whoa, whoa, babe! Put down the alarm clock. I'm sorry for laughing," Jax started appeasingly. "But it was an honest mistake and it happened over a month ago. You need to let it go." If the look on her face was anything to go by, Jax knew he had said quite possibly the wrongest thing imaginable. Implying that a Morrow might somehow be acting unreasonable was punishable by death._

" _Let. It. Go? She knew enough to call me a croweater! The bitch took it a step further, saying I looked like I could suck a mean dick!"_

_Trying to hide a smirk, Jax rubbed the hair on his chin. "Well, she sure wasn't wrong about that, babe. I can quite proudly testify to that shit."_

_As Jolene continued glaring at him, looking like she was trying to decide where to stick his KA-BAR, Jax realized that using humor was probably not the way to coax her out of the bad mood that the mere mention of Fawn Trager put her in. Hoping to pacify her, Jax walked over to Jolene and wrapped his arms around her and managed to place several gentle kisses on her lips as she fought him half-heartedly._

" _Look, Bobby told me that she really tore a strip off of Tiki for giving her some bad Intel and not cluing her in." Jax said as Jolene tried to avert her eyes. "She's basically new to the Life, darlin'. She may not know much about Club hierarchy or its politics, but she sure as shit knew how to handle herself and protect her old man when the Sheriff paid Tig a visit at the hospital. That alone puts her head and shoulders above her crazy ass sister. All I'm asking is that you cut her some slack. Maybe reach out to her."_

" _Really? What do you think I was trying to do when she slammed the door in my face?" Jolene pouted as she finally returned his hug, wrapping her arms around her old man's waist._

" _You were being my awesome old lady and doing what you always do, reaching out to help family through a rough patch." Jax replied with a slight smile. "She's spent the last two years estranged from her father, Jo and he almost died. You know what that shit can do to your head. You of all people cannot blame her for being a little territorial."_

_Jax barely managed to keep himself from grinning as his old lady finally made eye contact with him. "You know I hate it when you start sounding like your mother, Jackson." She snarked._

_Jax quirked an eyebrow. "That kinda scares me, Jo."_

" _Oh, yeah." Jolene nodded. "Mother Gemma's drinking the Fawn Kool-Aid, too. She's prolly the only reason I cut the little twit a break."_

_Jax chuckled. "Shit, darlin', there ain't nothing 'little' about Tigger's kid. I'm quite proud of my old lady's grappling skills, but she's a big bitch. Kick in some of that Trager temper and she might just break your undefeated streak." Jax snarked as he playfully ran his hands through her hair._

" _Please. Size don't mean shit. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Just ask Ope." Jolene scoffed, reminding Jax of how, as a teenager, Jolene knocked Opie to his knees with one well-placed fist in the groin._

" _My money's on you, killah, but do it for me. Try making some peace before declaring all out war, okay? After all, darlin', you're my Queen and you love our SAMCRO family. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, Fawn is now part of that family, so if not for me, do it for Tig. Reach out to the Spawn of Trager and extend an olive branch or two."_

_Jolene was back to glaring at Jax. "What ever happened to I keep my nose out of Club business and you steer clear of old lady business, huh?" She asked, but just as Jax was about to open his mouth, Jolene interrupted. "You know better than anyone what I had to go through to gain the respect of the bitches hanging around the Clubhouse when I first came back to Charming. I'm not about to let anyone, especially an outsider, treat me like I'm some dumb whore."_

" _Difference is, darlin', the croweaters knew better. Fawn don't, but she's a SAMCRO kid and as Queen of the charter, it's up to you to educate. Just think about it, babe. I think it might be really good for you to have Fawn over for a little talk. Take it from there."_

It had taken some convincing and even though Jolene was still a little tweaked, she had agreed that some SAMCRO training, old lady-style might go a long way in making Fawn almost bearable. Jax was hedging his bets, hoping that Jolene would turn Fawn into old lady material.

 _Because my best friend deserves the best_ , Jax thought. _Since he can't have my old lady, second best is gonna have to do. And what's better than a Jolene protégé_.

Jax blew smoke rings as he remembered witnessing sparks fly between his VP and Fawn during his visit to check up on Tig with Opie and Tiki that afternoon.

_Opening the front door, Fawn put her hand on her hip as she warily eyed the three men standing on her father's doorstep._

" _More visitors," Fawn grimaced. "How nice. Come on in." Cocking an eyebrow, Jax realized that the disdain in her voice seemed to be directed not at him or Tiki, but his mountain of a sidekick and best friend._

_Remembering what Tig had shared about Opie and his loss, Fawn immediately felt a flush with shame. As far as she was concerned, Opie Winston certainly had his reasons for being so gruff. Feeling sympathetic towards the widower SAMCRO VP, Fawn knew that she had been mainly to blame for the fact that they had gotten off on the wrong foot the day they had met. Even though with her father at death's door at the time she had her own bag of shit to deal with, she wasn't so petty as to not let herself make amends when she knew she had been wrong. Taking the first step, Fawn smiled graciously at all three patches as she motioned for them to enter._

_Jax stepped foot inside the threshold and grinned as he looked around. "No crime scene tape, no chalk outlines. Things must be good if you and Tig haven't killed each other yet."_

_Fawn smiled and was about to offer the three men some cold beers when Opie decided to toss his two cents in._

" _Just give her a minute, bro and I'm sure she'll make it happen. Tig was probably just waiting for us to come over so we could get rid of the body."_

_Jax's blue eyes widened as he took in the snark that was standing next to him._

_Fawn placed her hand on her cocked hip as she glared at Opie through narrowed eyes. Well, shit,_ she groused to herself _. It certainly didn't take him long to strike the first blow. Fuck him, then!_

" _I heard you and Tiki were out of town," Fawn directed at Jax. "I'm guessing you were up by way of the Pacific Northwest, judging by the Big Foot you brought back with ya. Hope it's housebroken." Turning on her heel, she led them into Tig's bedroom, where Opie and Fawn continued flinging verbal barbs at each other without actually speaking to each other._

_Thinking he had just the thing to break up the growing tension between his sponsor's kid and the charter's VP, Tiki handed Fawn a blue gift bag stuffed with tissue paper. "What's this?" She asked, slightly taken aback._

" _Something your Dad ordered special for you." Tiki replied, surprised to see the young woman's eyes moisten as she eyed the bag in her hand. Giving her father a quick look and smile, Fawn didn't notice the devilish grin on Tig's face as she excitedly plunged her hand into the bag and grabbed onto something soft and plush._

_WTF?_

_As she pulled it out, Opie watched, his brow furrowed, as Fawn's creamy complexion suddenly paled. She was shaking, the tears springing from her eyes no longer those of joy, but pure fear. Just as quickly, however, the famous Trager temper kicked in and Opie and Jax watched with jaws dropped as she took the beautiful white Persian cat stuffed animal and repeatedly slammed it over the head and upper body of a shocked Tiki._

" _You sick little piece of shit!" She practically screeched as she turned and threw the stuffed animal at Tig before flouncing out of the room._

" _What the fuck did you just get me into, old man?!" Tiki shouted as he watched the back end of Fawn storm off._

_Tig was nearly rolling around his bed in laughter. "The bitch had it coming, believe you me."_

" _Damn, Tig." Feeling somewhat sympathetic, Opie kept himself from laughing outright, but couldn't help but chuckle. "That was sick and twisted, even for you. She's your flesh and blood, or did you forget?"_

" _What? You have no idea what she did to me." Tig shivered slightly at the thought of the demon dolls she had tortured him with. "Payback's a cold-hearted bitch!"_

" _What the hell's her problem?" Tiki asked, completely lost and not understanding how a stuffed animal could trigger such a reaction. "I thought all women liked girly shit like that."_

_Opie stooped down to pick up the offending animal and took a good look at it. "Not when some psycho bitch throws a real dead cat on your doorstep."_

" _What?" Tiki still looked confused until it finally dawned on him. "Aw shit, Tig. I forgot all about that. That was years ago."_

" _Well, Fawnzy hasn't." Tig chuckled. "She can't stand the sight of cats. They always remind her of finding a dead one on our doorstep."_

_Jax shook his head. "She was a kid, bro. You just dug up some painful childhood trauma shit. My advice, don't eat anything she's had a hand in preparing."_

" _It would serve you right. Even I'm not that heartless." Opie added. Shoving the toy back into the bag, he tucked it under his arm just as Fawn returned._

_Any thoughts of sympathy were dashed, however, the moment she opened her mouth. "I bet you were the asshole who got that for your boy—" She aimed at Opie._

" _Well, actually—" Tiki started hesitantly, realizing that he needed to cop to it, but was completely surprised when he was beat to it._

" _Yeah, I did." Opie replied smugly. "Anything I can do to help a brother out. It's a damn shame for a good man to be terrorized by his own kin." He said with a twisted grin on his face. "Besides, it's nice to know that the tough girl from Seattle isn't all that tough after all." He goaded._

_Watching as Fawn and his best friend started going at it again, Jax wondered if he was the only one in the room that sensed the slight tinge of sexual tension between the two._

_Shaking his head, Jax rubbed the hair on his chin. "These two just need to hit that shit and get it over with." He said to himself under his breath. "I'm sure they'd be a lot easier to live with then."_

_Tig's head suddenly snapped up and Jax was taken by surprise as his SAA glared at him. "What did you say?"_

_Jax shook his head. "Nothing, bro."_

Tig might be in denial, but he definitely wasn't alone in that department. There was a razor sharp edge to the snarkiness that Opie and Fawn directed at each other, but there was also a spark. Jax was sure that it wasn't a result of _not_ liking each other, but of actually liking each other a bit _too much_ , which seemed to mutually upset the pair.

In spite of becoming somewhat grumpy and withdrawn in the years since Donna died, among the croweaters looking to make the jump from Club whore to old lady Opie was considered to be _the_ prime catch. Emily Duncan in particular was pressing the issue, Jax noticed, by spending more and more time with Opie and less and less time with the other patches. Emily was a Clubhouse favorite, so the fact that she was getting increasingly particular about who she partied with did not go unnoticed. Even Jolene, whose general distrust and dislike for all female hang-arounds kept her away from most Friday night parties, had noticed. Still over protective of her Sasquatch after the disaster that was Lyla Dean, being in Jolene's crosshairs was a dangerous place for a croweater to be.

If Opie had a clue that Emily had set her sights on him, he wasn't leading on. After Lyla, he steered clear of letting some after-Church party fun develop into a serious relationship. He had learned his lesson, Opie assured Jax. And after three years on his own, Jax thought that it was highly unlikely that his best friend would ever allow himself to love or be loved again.

 _Can't blame him,_ Jax thought. _I can't even think of being with anyone but Jo, not even on a run_.

Opie, however, had enjoyed the company of several redheads available for service at the Reno Clubhouse during this last run. Jax smirked to himself as he was sure it wasn't a coincidence that Ope's had suddenly developed a taste for flame-haired beauties _after_ the arrival of the spunky, foot-in-mouth and extremely sexy redheaded daughter of Tig Trager. The more Jax thought about it, the more convinced he became that maybe the young woman was exactly what his brother needed.

It was clear that Fawn wasn't Donna, but maybe that was a good thing. Although Opie's old lady had been a wonderful wife, mother, and friend, it was obvious that Fawn was made of some pretty strong shit, especially if she was willing to face off against his old lady. As Tig's kid, she had to be and she was already proving that she had the stones to deal with the once-charming gentle giant that had morphed into something of a beast. It seemed like something worth exploring and Jax was willing to do his part to throw the two together and find out if that constant need to bitch at each other sparked a different kind of fire.

Matchmaking wasn't his shit. As a matter of fact, Jax had resented his mother's interference in his love life before Jolene and he was sure Opie would feel the same way. In order to see this through, however, he needed Jolene on board. Getting his old lady to reach out to Fawn Trager was the first step. Hopefully, some of Jo's polish would rub off on the young woman.

 _Because my brother deserves to find a little happiness again and if I can, I'm going to be an interfering bastard and help him get it_.


	9. Suck It Up!  You're One of Us

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Fawn slammed her car door and looked around. As she took in the beautiful home, manicured lawn and three-car garage, she nodded wryly.

 _Damn, looks like living the outlaw life really pays off. Maybe I should have taken the Prez up on his offer to stay here instead of at the Clubhouse_.

Although Fawn was being a little flip with herself, inwardly she felt a little twinge in her stomach as she gazed at the somewhat imposing home. It was definitely a step up from her father's digs, but knowing who was waiting for her inside was not giving Fawn a warm, fuzzy feeling.

It was a rare occasion when the spawn of Trager allowed virtual strangers to intimidate her by making her feel inadequate or uncomfortable in her own skin, but this situation was different.

The young Queen of Charming had taken control away from Fawn by beckoning her to the Teller castle, giving herself home court advantage. In hindsight, maybe she had been too hasty by sending Jolene Teller away when she had come to visit her father. At least then Fawn had been on her own turf.

When Tig had told her quite casually the night before that Bobby was coming over the next day to spend a Saturday afternoon watching sports and eating junk, she had been excited. Of all the SAMCRO members she had met over the course of her time in Charming, Fawn had to admit that she felt most at ease with the shaggy-haired biker. She was already mentally planning the sweet treat she was going to make for his visit with the organic ingredients she had on hand when her father dropped the bomb on her.

"No, you don't understand, Fawnzy. I need some alone time with my brother tomorrow." Tig said as he finished his lunch. "I need you gone. Rocco can stay."

"Oh," Taken by surprise, she couldn't help but sound disappointed. "Okay, well that won't be a problem. I'm sure I can find some shit to do."

Tig shook his head. "You already got something to do." He replied. "You've been invited over for lunch."

" _Lunch_? That sounds a little serious."Fawn took her father's empty plate from him, her heart fluttering in her chest with excitement. "With who?"

_Opie?!_

"With Jax's old lady. She wants to have a little talk." Tig grinned a little as he saw his daughter's shoulders tense, but nodded to himself in satisfaction when his kid didn't drop the plate or loosen her bowels.

 _Shit!_ Fawn's heart sank to her stomach.

"Talk? What would we have to talk about?" She asked, hoping to sound casual, flippant even.

"Oh, I think you know."

 _Fuck!_ Her heart sunk further, down into her knees.

It had been several weeks since she had last seen Jolene Teller standing on her father's porch with fire in her eye as Fawn restricted the Queen's access to Tig. Jolene had pealed tires out of the driveway that day, but Fawn hadn't meant it as a personal attack. She had banned _everyone_ from seeing Tig his first couple of weeks at home. Knowing that the President's wife had been offended, Fawn still wasn't prepared to apologize.

As the newcomer—the outsider that this tight knit group of bikers seemed wary of—she had to exert her authority over her father's care or she would have been run over roughshod. She wasn't in Charming to make friends and once she left she would probably never see these people again, so her first priority had been getting her father in the right frame of mind for the long road to recovery ahead. Besides, she had come too far in terms of mending her broken relationship with her father to have any regrets regarding the steps she had taken to make it happen.

Hashing out their issues, however, had left Fawn open to learning more about Tig's relationship with the Club and the old ladies. Just like learning about Opie and his situation had made her feel somewhat sympathetic towards the grumpy outlaw, Fawn was now feeling what could be classified as a minor twinge of guilt regarding Jolene Teller. Fawn had hoped that once she lifted the visitor ban she would have the opportunity to make amends. It seemed that everyone at the Clubhouse had stopped by for a visit more than once.

 _Everyone except the Prez's old lady_.

Now hearing from Tig that she had been invited to lunch by the SAMCRO Queen, Fawn couldn't help but feel like she was being set up. As she contemplated that her father may never find her body, she came to the stunning realization that her father was an active participant in this plot. Either he was taking further revenge for the life-like dolls she had bought into his house or he was hoping she would kiss and make up with apparently his favorite of all old ladies.

Deciding that it could go either way, Fawn had seriously considered ducking out of this little meeting of the minds, until she remembered that Tig had made his respect and affection for Jax Teller's old lady quite plain. Although she may not be walking into a hit, it was clear that she would be expected to curtsy and kiss the Queen's ring. In spite of the beating she was sure her pride was going to take, and to Tig's utter surprise, instead of arguing the matter, he nearly fell out of his bed when his daughter responded.

"What time does she want me there?"

So here she was, about to confront the Queen in her own court. For her father's sake, Fawn was determined to make nice, but Jolene shouldn't expect to be treated any different from her pal Opie if she decided to give Fawn shit.

Because Fawn was a Trager and Tragers took shit from _no one_.

* * *

"Mommy," TJ started. He was sitting, his little legs dangling, on the counter next to Jolene as she quickly handwashed the dishes she had used to prepare lunch. "You look so pretty today."

"Aww," Jolene smiled at her youngest, who was beaming angelically at his mother. "Thank you, sweetie. You're looking quite handsome yourself. Are you excited about Becky's party?" She asked, referring to the birthday party one of his pre-school classmates had invited TJ, Maddy, and Moby to at Chuck E. Cheese.

TJ shook his blond head. "Oh, I'm not going." He said a matter-of-factly.

Jolene turned the tap off and dried her hands with a dishtowel. "What? Why not? You've been looking forward to it all week." She stood in front of her baby with her hand on her hip.

"I was, but only if you go, too." TJ cocked his head at her. "I don't wanna miss you, Mommy."

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry." Jolene dropped a kiss on his forehead. "I completely forgot about the party when I made plans for lunch today, but you should go. You'll miss out on all the fun and I'll be here when you get back." She tried to convince him, but her little shadow was shaking his head again.

"It's okay. I rather stay here with you and Daddy." He replied emphatically.

Jolene chuckled. "I'm not having lunch with Daddy, baby."

TJ quirked an eyebrow. "You're not?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Daddy's taking Abel to the garage to work on the Sportser." _Besides, 'lunch dates' with Jax never involve food_ , she smiled to herself.

As if on cue, Abel bolted into the kitchen, stopping at the doorway as Jax came in behind him. "Ma! We're heading out."

"Hey," Jax nodded his head towards his old lady as he threw on his kutte. "Go give your mother a proper good-bye."

Abel practically dragged his sneakered feet towards his mother. Pulling him into her arms, Jolene tucked strands of his nearly-shoulder length blond hair behind his ears before giving him a tight hug and sloppy kiss. "Ah, my little boy's getting too old to kiss me." She teased as Abel wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm not, Mommy." TJ called out happily.

"Me neither." Jax wriggled his eyebrows at Jolene as he pulled her away from Abel and into his arms, nearly swallowing her face with his kiss.

"Dang! See, how did I know that was coming?" Abel protested. "I'm waiting outside. See ya later, Ma."

Jax was laughing as Jolene pulled away from their lip lock. "Why do you insist on torturing him?" Jolene couldn't help but smile.

"Gurl, he's just carrying on a family tradition." Neeta said as she entered the kitchen through the patio's French doors. "You have any idea how many times that boy had to watch your daddy suck the tonsils out of Gemma's head?"

"Ugh!" Jax protested. "I appreciate the back up, Neeta, but I could have done without the visual."

"See?" Neeta smirked as she walked over to TJ and swooped him up into her arms. "You about ready to head off for Chuck E. Cheese?"

The little boy shrugged his shoulders as he played with the gold cross on the delicate necklace hanging down to her bosom. "I guess?"

"What do you mean you guess?" Neeta asked, one eyebrow arched up to her hairline.

"I think I wanna stay home with Mommy." TJ replied.

"Nuh-uh, baby boy. Cut them apron strings. If I have to go, you're gonna go too. Besides, it's your friend's party." Neeta put him down.

Jax looked at Jolene with a furrowed brow. "I thought Gemma was taking the kids to the party."

"She was, until she got a special invite to a secret shoe sale at Neiman Marcus in San Francisco." Jolene replied.

"So that means—"

"That I'll be spending the afternoon _alone_ with Fawn Trager?" Jolene flashed her husband an evil grin. "Yes, baby, so please keep the ringer on your prepay on high. I might need your help getting rid of, you know, _evidence._ "

"That's not funny." Jax said, just a tad bit worried as the two women laughed.

"Don't you trust me?" Jolene asked, innocently batting impossibly long eyelashes at him.

"No," Neeta replied for Jax. "But I do, baby girl. She'll do just fine, Jax. Go on and enjoy the day getting all greasy with your boy."

"Yeah, baby. Poor Abel was counting the minutes 'til you got back from your run. Don't disappoint him because of me. I'm cool as a cucumber." Jolene assured him.

"Yeah?" Jax leaned in and kissed his old lady. "That's what worries me, darlin'. Call me if you need me."

Hearing the front door slam behind Jax, Neeta turned to look at Jolene. "I didn't just set this poor woman up for a bloody death, did I? You're gonna contain your mud, right?"

Jolene gave Neeta a dead-eye stare. "You know me better than that, Neeta Benson."

"Yeah, I do," Neeta nodded. "That's why I'm gonna ask again, you're gonna contain your mud, right?"

Looking down at her youngest, who was looking up at her with huge blue eyes, Jolene shook her head. "Yes, ma'am. There will be no spilling of mud or blood today. I promise."

Having made the decision to try and make peace with Tig's kid, Jolene realized that she needed as much information about Fawn Trager as possible. Fortunately, the SAMCRO gossip mill was a well-oiled machine and she had been able to cull some information about Fawn from an unlikely source—Neeta herself.

Always with her ear to the ground, Neeta had gotten her Intel from Gemma, who in turn had gotten it from Clay. Armed with this information, Jolene now had a broader view of the somewhat standoffish and reclusive young woman. Enough to understand why Fawn was the way she was. Now it was just a matter of trying to reach her.

Jolene had every intention of keeping her promise to her old man and see this meeting of the minds through. Her decision to cooperate had more to do with her affection for Tig than actually caring about making nice as the SAMCRO Queen. But she was going to keep an open mind and offer Fawn a do-over. Hopefully, the young woman didn't take the overture as a sign of weakness because, even though it had been a long while, Jolene would not hesitate in throwing the first punch.

* * *

Approaching the wood and beveled glass front door, Fawn pressed the door bell and waited patiently for someone to open the door into hell. After twenty seconds had passed and no one came, she was about to turn around and head back to her car. Thinking she had gotten a reprieve, Fawn's shoulders slumped when she heard a small thump hit the door.

Looking down through the glass, Fawn's eyes rose as she took in the small girl with dark hair and blue-green eyes looking at her with a furrowed brow. In the background, Fawn could hear the pitter-patter of sneakered feet accompanied by the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor

Steeling herself, Fawn was surprised when, through the glass, her eyes met a pair of warm brown ones set in a smooth, unlined and full face of rich cocoa expertly enhanced with cosmetics. The stylist smiled inwardly at the pair of pearl earrings, which drew emphasis to the short chic hairdo that flattered the woman's face. Although ample in shape, the woman looked and carried herself elegantly in a simple pair of tan slacks, a red blouse, and black apron. Next to her was another small child, a boy with a mop of bright blond hair and blue eyes grinning up at her.

Pulling open the door, Neeta Benson smiled up at the tall red-haired woman in the doorway.

_Humpf! So this is Trager's kid. Gurl, I sure hope you're more like your father than your looks let on 'cause it may get a little crazy in here._

Before Neeta could invite her in, a small voice piped up. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Fawn looked down at the little girl who had her arms crossed over her chest and was looking up at her suspiciously. Before she could answer, the little boy opened his mouth to chastise his sister.

"Maddy! That's rude and Mommy doesn't like it when yous rude." He said as the little girl rolled her eyes. "This is Mommy's friend and she's here to eat lunch with Mommy."

"Show's how much you know, TJ. Mommy doesn't have any friends." Maddy said, still eyeballing Fawn suspiciously.

"Does too! Miss Neeta's Mommy's friend." The boy argued.

"Miss Neeta don't count. She's family and family can't be friends." The little girl retorted.

"Miss Neeta," TJ turned to look up at the older woman. "Tell Maddy she's wrong _and_ rude."

"You're both being rude right about now, keeping our guest waiting at the front door and not asking her in." Neeta opened the door wide, forcing both children to take a step back. "Honey, please do come in. As you probably already clued into, I'm Neeta and this is Maddy and TJ." The Teller's housekeeper held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure you have," Fawn replied wryly. "And you're still willing to shake my hand? Thank you."

Neeta nearly snorted with laughter. "Yeah, well, I don't spook easily. Just ask your daddy. Why don't you follow me? Jolene's out back on the patio."

Fawn followed Neeta trying to keep up with the little chatterbox that was TJ Teller while being scrutinized by what was obviously a mini-version of his mother. Quickly taking in her surroundings, Fawn was surprised that the beautiful and well-decorated home was warmer and comfier than she had expected.

Instructing the children to get their jackets, Neeta walked Fawn through the French doors leading off the kitchen and the large family dining area and onto the deck. Sitting with her legs crossed in one of the chairs around a table loaded with food and beverages was none other than the lady of the house, Jolene Teller.

Remembering the conservatively dressed woman in killer high heels she had shooed away from her front door, Fawn almost did a double-take. The woman, on top of looking reasonably calmer, looked too young and pretty to be the 30-something mother of three married to an outlaw biker. As a matter of fact, with her smooth porcelain skin beautifully contrasted by the healthy-looking thick and shiny mop of black hair, Jolene Teller looked younger than Fawn. Wearing a form-fitting tank top underneath an oversized SAMCRO hoodie that had obviously once belonged to her old man, a pair of dark wash jeans, and fuzzy-looking slippers, Teller's old lady made a very attractive picture in her very casual wear.

Feeling overdressed in a knee-length print wrap dress and her long suede Prada boots, Fawn shifted uncomfortably as Jolene took her in.

For some reason, Jolene had expected that Fawn would dress to impress and decided to take the opposite approach. To her chagrin, she realized that she was getting more and more like Gemma in her old age. Although Jolene had told Neeta that she wanted to come across as approachable when picking out her outfit for the lunch date, if she was honest with herself, the plan in the back of her mind had slightly more sinister overtones. She was hoping to intimidate Fawn by showing her how little fucks she had to give. So little in fact that Jolene couldn't be bothered to put on actual shoes.

The best way to disarm a foe was to give them what they weren't expecting. Jolene had learned that lesson years ago before leaving Charming on her self-imposed exile. The Club whores had underestimated Jolene after her brush with death had left her with a massive scar on her chest and very little self-esteem. Training with Chibs had allowed Jolene to not only change physically but reclaim what she thought she had lost: the ability to stand up for herself. Jolene had surprised _everyone_ on the lot the day the Reno Whore had made an appearance, but no one more so than Wendy Case herself as with one punch Jolene had the bitch picking her teeth up off the blacktop.

"Hello, Fawn. Thanks for coming." Jolene said pleasantly. "Please, sit down."

"Thanks for having me." Fawn replied in a cordial tone as she sat down across from her host, tossing her handbag into chair next to her.

"Okay, Mommy. We going now."

Fawn watched as the young woman's face warmed up with a breathtaking smile as she reached over to hug her son and daughter. "Now, Maddy, TJ, you be good for Miss Neeta, okay?"

"We wills." Maddy assured her mother.

Jolene eyed her housekeeper. "Are you sure you're going to be all right with TJ, Maddy _and_ Moby?"

"Gurl, please. I'll be just fine. They only act up with your butt at Chuck E. Cheese. They know better than to mess around with me." The older woman retorted. "You just make sure you play nice, too." Neeta cautioned as she eyed Fawn sitting in a cushioned chair. "Blood is nearly impossible to get out of upholstery, you know."

Fawn snickered and raised an eyebrow at Jolene as the woman and her charges walked back towards the house. "She know something I don't?"

"No, she's just missing that filter most normal people have that keeps them from sharing whatever comes to mind." Jolene replied with a little eye roll. "I wouldn't have her any other way, though. She's not into the bullshit and just tells it like it is. It's an uncommon trait, but one I look for in the people I call friends." She reached for a carafe on the table. "Coffee?"

"Yes, thank you. Black, please." Accepting the large mug from her hostess, Fawn sipped at it in appreciation.

_Good shit._

Fawn decided to take the bull by the horns by picking up on Jolene's last comment. "I admire people like that myself. I like it when someone looks you straight in the eye and tells you exactly what they mean. Cuts out all the fuckin' drama."

Jolene smiled. "Absolutely. Sometimes, however, it backfires, and creates a whole mess of unnecessary drama," The Queen put her coffee mug down and folded her hands in her lap. "Especially when that brutal honesty is maliciously directed at someone who was reaching out to help."

Putting her coffee on the table, Fawn inwardly sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I would apologize if I felt I was wrong, but I had my reasons for doing what I did. If it makes a difference, just know that it wasn't anything personal."

Jolene nodded. "It does make a difference, so thank you for saying so. I just hope you mean it."

"I don't usually go around saying shit I don't mean."

"Good, because neither do I." Jolene replied succinctly. "I understand that you may not know much about life in an MC, but I'm sure you're smart enough to realize that disrespect is not something that is going to get you far around here."

Fawn's bright blue eyes flashed, reminding Jolene of her old man's SAA. "So you think I was being disrespectful?"

"I know you were." Jolene responded immediately.

Fawn chuckled. "It's a Trager family flaw, our need to buck convention and thumb our noses at authority."

"And at what authority did you think you were thumbing your nose at when you slammed the door in my face?"

"Well, they do call you the 'Queen of Charming', don't they?" Fawn quirked an eyebrow.

"Behind my back, to piss me off, maybe. I don't pretend to run shit in this town, so calling me the Queen of Charming is overstating it. Am I the SAMCRO Queen? You bet I am, but only when my King needs me to be."

"Yeah, well, like you said, I don't know much about MC life."

"I don't travel much myself, but I understand that when visiting a foreign land, people usually make the effort to get to know the language and customs so as to not offend. Maybe you should consider Charming a foreign land. Opening yourself up to learning about MC life might make your stay here a bit more _pleasant_."

Fawn's eyes widened. "Wow!" She couldn't help but exclaim. "Why is it that I feel like Don Corleone just made me an offer I can't refuse?"

Surprising Fawn, Jolene threw her head back and laughed. "Nah, that's just the high school math teacher in me. It's hard to turn it off, even on the weekends."

" _You_? Teach Math?" Fawn questioned disbelievingly as Jolene picked up her mug of coffee and nodded. "Bullshit! Ex-Maxim model? Maybe. Math teacher? _Never_."

Jolene was literally taken aback. "No need to try and flatter me. I promise I won't have you sleeping with the fishes any time soon."

"Hey, I did say I don't go around saying shit I didn't mean, right?" Fawn questioned. "I don't swing that way because, quite frankly, I enjoy man-meat way too much, but you're fuckin' hot. Your hair's gorgeous. I'm willing to bet no chemical products have ever touched it, right?"

Jolene quirked an eyebrow. "That's a strange question, but no, I've never even dyed my hair."

Fawn took a sip from her delicious coffee. "Before you think I'm some freak with a hair fetish, rest assured, I am." She said, almost causing Jolene to spit her coffee out and all over the young woman. Fawn laughed as well. "I'm a hairstylist. It's usually the first thing I notice about a person."

"That's not strange at all." Jolene said, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Seriously, though. Have you ever modeled?" Fawn asked and Jolene shook her head emphatically. "For some reason you seem so familiar to me." She mused.

"Oh, maybe that's cuz we've met before, remember?" Jolene started, a wicked gleam in her eye. "I'm the sweetbutt that sucks a mean dick."

Fawn literally face-palmed herself. "Shit, I am a bitch." She said quite seriously and Jolene chuckled. "For that I will apologize, Jolene."

"But not for keeping Tig's family from checking in on him?"

Fawn cocked her head, her defenses up again. " _I_ am his family and I did what needed to be done for my father's well-being."

"Honestly, Fawn, the last thing I'm interested in doing is hashing out why you did it. I understand the _why_ because I've been in a very similar situation concerning my own father. I won't begrudge you the need to protect the ones you love. What I'm interested in hashing out is why it will _never_ happen again." Jolene said confidently as Fawn's back instinctively stiffened.

"Why? Because the Club's his _real_ family?" She asked sardonically. "Trust me. I'm just a little too familiar with how important the MC is to my father. Important enough that when he left my mother, he never looked back." Fawn felt the cold resentment start to creep back in, but quickly reminded herself that she and Tig had already put the issue to bed. She just needed to let herself move beyond it.

Fawn sighed. "Truth is, maybe I did take a little pleasure in holding you at bay, but that shit had more to do with my own issues than you personally. Everyone, my Dad included, makes all this noise about the MC being a family. Well, I'm not a part of that. Never have been. I don't know shit about being in a motorcycle club and adding insult to injury, I come to this town and it's like I've been thrown into the fuckin' stone age. Dealing with all this male testosterone, alpha male bullshit was hard enough for me. I didn't need the SAMCRO Queen telling me how bad a job I was doing taking care of my own father, especially when I hear him talking about you like you hung the moon or some shit like that. You have any idea how many times I've seen video of you fighting some chick with cheap extensions?"

Jolene smiled to herself as she shook her head. "Shit, that's a blast from the past. It's probably been years since I last thought about that Indian Hills fight."

"Well, to hear Tig talk about it, you'd think he had witnessed the Ali-Fraser fight first hand." Fawn responded.

Jolene bit her lip as she eyed the dejected looking young woman. "Fawn, for the record, I didn't think you were doing a bad job," Jolene said. "All I wanted to do was help you out because you shouldn't have to bear all the stress of doing it on your own. You shut everyone out, wouldn't let anyone help, and that shit doesn't happen here. SAMCRO is family and we take care of our own."

"I'm not SAMCRO. I'm not family. I'm an outsider and you of all people cannot possibly understand what it's like to just walk into this place. How can you? You've been a part of the MC your whole life. Your father was MC President. Your old man's MC President now, and on top of all that, you're well-adjusted. Shit, you're a fuckin' high school math teacher. That's not something I've ever had or could possibly hope to understand. My father's emotionally retarded, so is it any wonder that I've never been in a relationship that's lasted more than a year?" Fawn said sarcastically.

"You make it sound like I've had this perfect life." Jolene commented.

"Haven't you?" Fawn asked.

"No. It may seem that way now, but it took me a long time and a lot of pain to get here. I would fight tooth and nail to keep what I have now because anything worth having is worth suffering for, but I've already paid those dues." Jolene explained. "What you need to understand is that you ARE family. Not all family bonds have to do with blood. You're Tig Trager's kid and HE is a huge part of this family, making you a part of it too." Jolene nodded as Fawn looked at her with disbelieving wide eyes. "I met my father for the first time when I was six, so I understand a lot more about feeling like an outsider than you'd think. It was only when I came to Charming did I finally feel like a part of a family. You're being given the same opportunity."

Fawn felt her throat tighten with emotion as Jolene shared the intimate details of her life before Charming. How she lived the first five years with a drug-addicted mother who turned tricks in order to support her habit. Eventually, her mother had given up custody of Jolene to the state of Washington, where she lived for almost a year in a group home. She met her father, Clay Morrow, for the first time when Child Protective Services had contacted him about terminating his parental rights in order for Jolene to be put up for adoption. Instead of doing just that, Clay had taken the trip to Seattle with Bobby Munson to meet the little girl he never knew he had. Going to live with a group of bikers she had never met before might have seemed like a nightmare to most kids, but for Jolene it had been her salvation. Fawn realized that feeling like her father had rejected her and actually having a parent reject their own child were two totally different experiences. She would have never have guessed that the self-assured woman sitting before her had had such a rough start.

"You never saw your mother again?" Fawn asked quietly.

"I did. I was forced to live with her for six months when I was almost 17. Once I came back home, I never looked back." Jolene said grimly. Leaning forward, Jolene looked Fawn straight in the eyes. "She may be blood, but she's not my family. _SAMCRO is_. And whether you're willing to acknowledge it or not, it's _your_ family too."

* * *

It was an unseasonably warm spring day in Charming. Totally unexpected for the middle of April, by lunchtime the temperature had set a new record high at 90 degrees.

And Opie Winston was making the most of it.

With the stifling heat in the bays actually making the air sizzle, he had stripped off his T-M work shirt and his trademark beanie, and had dumped them on one of the workbenches as he and Lowell worked on a late-model Chrysler currently on the lift. It was a two-man job and the two men were working in almost complete silence, only communicating on the job at hand when necessary. Opie was glad that Lowell wasn't particularly chatty that morning, too as it allowed him to think about the one thing that was constantly on his mind as of late:

 _Fawn Trager_.

It wasn't just the fact that the woman was fuckin' hot that had him thinking about her _all the damn time_ , even though that probably had _a lot_ to do with it. It was mainly the fact that Tig's spawn had the uncanny ability to get under his skin and it was truly starting to piss him off. Although he fantasized about taking her up against the wall of some darkened corner of the Clubhouse, those fantasies also included him nearly smothering her with his hand just to get her to shut the fuck up.

Thinking back on all the women he's known and been with, his old lady Donna included, Opie couldn't remember one that had ever inspired such conflicting emotions in him. The desire to give her something to moan and groan about by bending her over was equally as powerful as the desire to bend her over his knee to give her the good spanking Tig obviously never had. She was definitely beautiful and crazy—and crazy usually translated into a phenomenal lay—but Opie pitied the damn fool that ended up with Fawn Trager as his old lady.

When not in the same room with her, however, Opie could bring himself to admit that he admired Fawn on some level. The woman certainly had a pair of balls to go along with her attitude and she needed both in order to deal with her crazy-as-a-shithouse-rat of a father. He gave her props for being the only member of Tig's family to come at a dead run when he had been at death's door. It couldn't be easy for her surrounded by strangers in a strange town, but she stuck around to take care of Tig's grouchy ass during his recovery anyway.

On the flip side, though, Opie didn't like hearing how she had overstepped her boundaries by barring Jolene from Tig's house. That shit wasn't right, but he had to give Fawn credit for standing her ground, no matter how unreasonable he thought she was being. By keeping Tig isolated from Jo and the rest of SAMCRO, Fawn had been courting a second epic beat down after narrowly escaping the first one she had coming for assuming that both Gemma and Jolene were croweaters. Fawn probably had no idea how lucky she had been. Even though Fawn could probably pick Jo up and toss her over her shoulder, the she-devil his best friend was married to could pack a mean punch. Luckily for Fawn, motherhood had mellowed Jolene out a bit, who nowadays saved her bitch-smacking skills for any hang-around that dared cross the line with her old man.

Using a torque wrench to loosen a couple of rusty bolts from the underside of the Chrysler, Opie realized that, other than her constant need to shove a foot in her mouth and the fact that she was one seriously hot bitch with a wicked big ass classic car, huge mutt of a dog and a life back in Seattle, he really knew nothing about her as a person.

He also knew next to nothing about most croweaters hanging around the Clubhouse, but he wasn't fantasizing about _them_ all the fuckin' time. And as much as Opie hated to admit it, it was Fawn he was thinking about when he had nailed every damn redhead at the Reno Clubhouse during this last run.

As usual, Zeus Esparza had been more than happy to open up his stable of girls to the SAMCRO officers and their patches whenever they came on a run to the Reno Club-slash-brothel and this last run had been no exception. Before Fawn rode into town in her deuce and a quarter, however, Opie had never discriminated when it came to pussy, enjoying all types, sizes and colors.

But ever since getting knocked between the eyes by a sexy blue-eyed redhead striding down a hospital corridor, Opie's choices had pretty much taken on a distinct pattern. Even though he had managed to satiate himself with several redheaded strippers and hookers, Opie quickly realized that they all paled in comparison to the original that he hadn't even nailed—

 _Yet_.

Opie's musings were interrupted when Tiki sauntered into the bay. "Hey, Lowell, I'll take over here with Ope. Chibs needs a hand reconfiguring the fuel line on the silver Camry that was brought in yesterday. Or at least that's what I think he said. Nearly four fuckin' years sharing a patch with the Scotsman and I still don't know what the fuck he's saying half the time."

Lowell grinned. "It's an acquired skill." Wiping his hands down with a greasy rag, Lowell headed for the other bay. However, instead of picking up where Lowell left off, Tiki grabbed one of the stools and sat down.

"Get up, asshole!" Opie hollered. "No sitting down on the job."

"Just give me a minute, bro. My ass got a real work out last night and I'm still recovering." The younger patch grinned.

Opie grinned back. "You're too fuckin' young to be complaining about aches and pains, brother, especially after snagging yourself some tail."

"Not when it's two-on-one. Twice the pussy, twice the work. I have a reputation to maintain." Tiki propped his feet on a creeper. "Sometimes I think maybe it's time to bite the bullet, get me an old lady, and just settle down."

Opie laughed. "Shit, Tiki. You're too young to be talking crazy like that."

"Really? And how old were you and Jax when you two picked out your old ladies?" Tiki gave his brother a pointed look. "Wasn't it roundabout my age?"

"Whose been shitting in your ear about me and Jax?"

"Pop. It just came up in conversation," Tiki said smoothly. "When I was talking to him about Fawn." Tiki dropped the F-bomb and waited for a reaction.

It didn't take long in coming.

" _Fawn_?" Opie huffed, a hard glint in his eye. "What about the Demon Spawn?"

Tiki shook his head while scratching at the light stubble on his face. "You gotta admit, bro. That's one bitch most patches wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers." He replied blithely. "Shit, she's sexy, badass, and can cook like a mother fuckin' dream, all pros in her favor. The only con I can think of, and it's a big one, is that she's Tig's kid. I'm too young and pretty to die a horrible death."

"Then maybe you should keep that in mind, shithead." Opie pointed his wrench at Tiki, instead of hurling it at his head like he wanted. "You'd have to be as crazy as she is to get tangled up with her. She'd eat you alive, bro. She's, what, six years older than you? She ain't old enough to be a cougar, but she will sure as shit chew your ass up and spit out the bones just like one," He warned. "You couldn't handle that shit."

"Yeah, but what a way to go, right? Crazy chicks like that? Fuck, it would still be a pretty awesome ride." Tiki grinned lecherously as Opie glared at the young patch without even realizing. "Maybe I'll be in a better position to make up my mind about tackling her after dinner tonight."

"Dinner? Tonight?"

"Yeah, she invited me and my old man over to the house for dinner. I'm just lucky to have a solid in with my Dad and all. She just loves him. That and the fact that she feels comfortable enough with me to share shit about herself means it's just a matter of finding out if she's a screamer and how she likes her eggs in the morning." Tiki wiggled his eyebrows underneath the blue bandana wrapped around his head.

Opie tried to act disinterested, but it was hard not picturing himself choking the living shit out of the young patch. "What kind of shit she share? Her shitty upbringing?" Opie asked sarcastically. "You could've figured that out on your own, genius."

Tiki shrugged his shoulders. "Among other things, too." He deliberately hedged. "Eh, maybe I shouldn't say anything."

As Tiki hoped, the VP took the bait. "What you say won't go any farther then here, shithead, so spill it."

It was the opening Tiki needed and with little fanfare he shared as much as he knew about Fawn's troubled teenage years. Having turned her life around, she had been clean and sober for the last ten years, living and working the last eight as a hairstylist in Seattle. Tiki made sure not to embellish what he had been told. "It takes a strong bitch to pull herself up and through that kind of shit. You know how most addicts give up Heroin? _By dying_."

Opie had stopped working and listened intently as Tiki related some of the bad shit Fawn had managed to get herself into and out of. Looking at her, the picture of robust health, he would have never guessed the acres of shit she had waded through, making it out alive. If being Tigger's daughter didn't explain her no-holds-barred attitude towards dealing with people and life, overcoming addiction certainly did. Then something triggered Opie's memory. "When her sister came to town a couple of years ago, didn't that have to do with Fawn and rehab—"

Tiki waved a hand. "Yeah, but it was a crock of shit. Dawn used Fawn's drug past to get money out of Tig. Pretty shitty, if you ask me."

"Yeah, me, too." Opie agreed quietly. "I kinda remember that's the reason she stopped talking to Tig."

"Yep, for over a year she wouldn't talk to Tig because she thought he had taken Dawn's word about her relapsing. If shit with the Meinekes hadn't gone sideways, who knows if Fawn would have ever come to Charming to reconcile with her dad. We never would've met her."

With the stunning realization that Tiki was probably right hitting him between the eyes, Opie's eyebrows rose as he heard the distinctive sound of Fawn's Buick as it pulled into the lot. "Well, shit," He said mostly to himself. "Speaking of the fuckin' sexy devil."

Tiki tried to suppress his grin. "I better go say hi to the maybe future Mrs. Munson." He was pretty thirsty after working hard to bait the hook for his brother and a cold and frosty one would go down real good. But first, he had to throw just one more log on the fire he was trying to light under Opie's ass. Pulling off his bandana do-rag, Tiki then quickly stripped off his T-M work shirt, revealing a white wife beater that clung to his muscled torso like second skin. Flexing his biceps, Tiki grinned as he caught Opie's pissed off look from the corner of his eye. "Gotta whet her appetite, you know? Just a little appetizer before dinner."

Turning his back on his brother, Tiki swaggered confidently over to Fawn as she got out of the car and slammed the door.

_Hopefully, Jax will appreciate the results of my performance, which could more than likely end with me in a SAMCRO pine box._

* * *

Fawn's intention for stopping by the lot on the way to the supermarket was simply to confirm that Bobby and Tiki were still coming over for dinner.

In hindsight, it might have been better if she had just called instead.

Pulling her car into the lot, she had grinned and waved at Tiki as he exited one of the bays and advanced towards her. Tiki waved in return, but quickly realized that his VP must have been walking right behind him if the expression on the young woman's face was anything to go by.

 _Girl, you better pick your jaw up off the floor_ , Tiki thought gleefully. _Your lust is showing big time_.

The fact was that Fawn Trager was currently having a religious experience and it had absolutely nothing to do with the young patch in the skimpy wife beater. It had _everything_ to do, however, with the outlaw built like a fuckin' Redwood tree walking right behind him.

_OMFG!_

Her inner voice was in full agreement. _Girl, I ought to bitch slap you six ways to Sunday for keeping us away from that beast wrapped in raw sex!_

For once, Fawn was hard pressed not to agree as she took in the biker's well-defined chest, powerful arms with canons for biceps, tight six-pack abs and legs miles and miles long outfitted in a pair of dark wash jeans and steel-toed boots.

 _That sure as hell is a fine specimen of a man built for performance, but those tats_ , Fawn tried not to moan out loud like a strung out high school girl. _I think I'm drooling his tats are so fuckin' hot._

Fawn had long had a weakness for big men, but throw in some sexy tattoos and thick wavy hair and she would gladly let her superfreak flag fly.

 _The center cannot hold, anarchy is the only hope_ , read the words stretching from shoulder to shoulder across his collarbone and just above the Reaper in the middle of his muscled chest.

But this was Opie Winston who was wreaking havoc on her nether region and she refused to let herself lose her shit. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed her eyes pop out of her head on little springs like some cartoon dog eyeing a juicy steak.

_Too fuckin' late._

Fawn's blue eyes finally met the green ones that were dancing wickedly in their sockets with a smirk on his face as wide as his size 16 feet.

 _Size sixteens? Oh Lord, have mercy on my sex-starved little soul_!

"Like what you see?" Opie drawled out, making a point to flex the muscles on his chest, making his pecs do a little dance.

 _Oh Christ Almighty, help me,_ Fawn moaned to herself.

 _Yes, please, hook us up,_ Fawn's inner voice insisted.

But Fawn wasn't a Trager for nothing. Having been caught red-handed mentally blowing the man, she refused to be embarrassed about it. Fawn put a hand on a cocked hip and grinned up at the VP. "I sure do, Big Fella. But just because I _won't_ order, doesn't mean I can't check out the menu." She snarked as Tiki did a terrible job of muffling his laughter.

Quickly turning her attention to Tiki, Fawn said, "I just wanted to make sure that you and Bobby were still coming over for dinner tonight before I go and buy a ton of food."

"Oh, you know it, sweet thang." Tiki crossed his arms and nodded towards the Clubhouse. "Dad's been looking forward to it and so am I. He's bringing dessert, so I hope you haven't made anything yet. His German chocolate cake is legendary in this town."

"Yum, I LOVE German chocolate cake." She exclaimed. "You know, if you cook anything like your dad, I might just have to keep you for myself." Fawn peeped through her lashes at Opie to see how he took that bit of Intel.

 _Not too good by the looks of it_ , her inner Fawn did a little booty shake.

"Never would have guessed you had a thing for little runts with incredibly short life spans." Opie replied edgily.

Tiki cursed under his breath. _Like I haven't yanked on Ope's chain enough to piss him off_. All Opie needed was confirmation that Fawn might be the least bit interested in Tiki and he'd be breathing through his asshole. _Shit, if helping my brother find a little happiness has the potential of getting me killed, Jax is gonna have to give me some combat pay._

Quickly reaching over to pull the car door open, Tiki coaxed Fawn inside. "So, it was real nice of you to stop by. Don't wanna keep ya. Have a safe trip and see ya tonight."

With his back to his VP, Tiki was practically pleading with his eyes. Fawn, taking the not-so-subtle hint, decided to add a little of her own fuel to the fire. Blowing a kiss at a wide-eyed Tiki, Fawn pulled out of the lot, but not before catching one final _hard_ look at the Redwood in her rearview mirror. Reaching forward, she cranked the air conditioner up to full volume.

"I don't know about you," Fawn said out loud to her inner voice. "But shit, I could use either a really cold shower or a cigarette right about now!"

* * *

Murphy's Stop-N-Shop was one of several supermarkets in Charming. Located in the heart of the downtown area, it was the second largest supermarket in town, but with its recent makeover, Fawn considered it to be the best. Its new owner, Tyler Bennigan, had taken over the family-owned and operated business from her parents a year ago and had totally revamped the store inside and out. Being a fierce Vegan, Tyler was into the organic food movement and had stepped up on bringing good whole foods into the Charming market and was doing a brisk business. It also had an excellent air-conditioning system.

And Fawn Trager was grateful for both.

Picking through a large stand of organically produced tomatoes still on the vine, she carefully inspected the fruit and made her selections while thinking about her most recent encounter with the SAMCRO VP. The last thing she had expected to find when she decided to head over to the lot was a half-naked Opie Winston. In spite of embarrassing herself by gawking at the man like he was some outlaw version of a Chippendale's Dancer, Fawn realized that, given the chance to do it all over again, she wouldn't have changed a damned thing.

Now, however, was not the time to think about the hot, but ill-natured biker. At least not while she was in public anyway. Filing the encounter away for her "alone time", Fawn got back to the matter at hand and continued making her choices for her Mexican-themed dinner, as well as planning ahead for dinner later on in the week.

"These are perfect for my roasted corn salsa, but I need Roma tomatoes if I'm gonna make my marinara sauce for Sunday." She murmured to herself as she placed her selections in her shopping cart.

"Sounds like you really know your tomatoes."

Fawn looked up, searching for the owner of the friendly voice. Standing across from her on the other side of the display was a petite young woman with long curly brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. Fawn smiled. "Thanks, but I really can't take credit for that. I was taught by a friend's husband how to make the best marinara sauce on the planet. It's all about finding the right tomatoes and using fresh herbs. I make a pretty mean sauce, if I do say so myself."

"Well, with all this great produce, I'm sure it'll be a great sauce. I, on the other hand, can't boil an egg." The younger woman pushed her shopping cart until it was next to Fawn's and held out her hand. "I'm Lexie Dawson."

Fawn accepted her handshake. "Nice to meet you. I'm Fawn Trager."

Lexie nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Yes, I know." She was smiling broadly.

Fawn raised her eyebrows. "You do?"

The other woman shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. "Charming is a pretty small town. Everyone makes it a point to know just about everybody around here, especially newcomers associated with SAMCRO. By the way, I'm so glad to hear that your Dad's getting better. You must be so relieved."

"Uh, yes, I am. Thank you, but—I'm sorry, I'm just a little surprised."

"Surprised?" Lexie quirked an eyebrow.

"I guess I just assumed that good will towards the Club would be somewhat limited here in such a small town like Charming." Fawn explained. _Where, apparently, everybody knows your business_.

Lexie waved a hand. "Nah, there might be those that grumble about the MC, but for the most part, the Sons have kept Charming, well, _charming_. My mother and I certainly appreciate the stand they have taken to support small businesses. We own a hair salon here in town."

"Gina's Cut-N-Curl?" Fawn asked and Lexie nodded. "I've passed by a few times."

"Yep, that's us. My Mom's Gina. We've been in that location for over 30 years, almost as long as the Sons have been in Charming." Lexie said proudly.

"Being around so long, you must have a loyal customer base, which I'm sure is not an easy task in such a small town. You should be proud." Fawn complimented.

"Very proud. Actually," Lexie paused. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

"Me?" Fawn asked surprised.

"Well, we kind of heard through the grapevine that you work as a hairstylist."

"Really?" Fawn raised an arched eyebrow. "And just where did you hear that?"

"Oh, around," Lexie blushed prettily. "Like I said, it's a small town."

"I'm sure, but yes, I've been in the business for over eight years now." Fawn replied.

"Eight years? That's great. We have a nice-sized shop, but I'm sure it's probably nothing like where you work up in Seattle." Lexie stated. "How long have you been at _Flip It_?"

_Damn, does she have my social security number too?_

"Um, five years." Fawn replied, a little amused by how unconcerned she was about the amount of information Lexie Dawson had on her.

Suddenly, the young woman was excited like a frisky little puppy. "Really? I was at a hair show in Seattle a couple of years ago and remember seeing the _Flip It!_ booth. It was amazing. Oh, and you guys also did the hair and make up for the charity fashion show. I loved it! It's easy to see why _Flip It_ is the premier in high-end salons in Seattle."

"Thank you." Fawn beamed proudly. That had been the first time she had managed a staff of over two dozen stylists and make up artist for the Seattle Hair and Beauty Expo all on her own.

"I don't know how long you plan on staying in Charming," Lexie started hesitantly. "But I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask. See, we recently had to let go of a couple of girls. They weren't Charming residents—one lived in Modesto and the other in San Leandro—and the commute was killing them, and oh well, the fact is that we are sorely shorthanded during a very busy season for us. I don't know what your schedule is like with your father and all, but we could really use the help, even if it's just a couple of days a week and a Saturday here and there."

Fawn looked down at her hands and rubbed the tips of her fingers together. She had been feeling the itch and was a little antsy about getting back to work. "I don't know." She finally responded. "I'm basically taking my stay here day-to-day, but I really haven't been planning to stay for much longer—" She started.

"No, no, no, please don't say no right away, okay?" Lexie pleaded. "I know we're not a big salon, but it's a good way to keep your skills sharp while you are here. It's a great way to get to know the townsfolk, too. Just think about it. You can stop by the shop anytime, take a look around, and talk to my Mom."

Fawn looked at the hope in Lexie's hazel eyes and smiled. "Okay, I'll think about it."

"That's all I'm asking." Lexie grinned. "Well, I better get going. I'll see you around."

Fawn watched as the young woman bounced her way down the aisle.

_Hmm._

* * *

Six weeks into his recovery and Tig was finally relieved from his arm cast, enabling him to navigate around the house more on his own. Now sitting at the dining room table in his wheelchair, Tig was enjoying a hearty Sunday dinner of fresh Bucatini with homemade marinara sauce.

Deciding to speak _after_ shoving a pasta laden fork in his mouth, he nearly mumbled, "Fawnzy, I don't know where you learned to cook, but this is some good shit."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm glad you think it's good, but can you stop calling my food 'shit'?" Fawn replied as she dug into her own plate.

"Hey, don't get your panties in a twist." Tig barked.

"I can't. I'm wearing a G-string." Fawn deadpanned as her father choked on the juicy meatball he had just put in his mouth.

The wisecracking between father and daughter continued as they enjoyed their meal and each other's company. Now that the air was clearer between them, they had managed to fall into a steady routine that didn't require them to be in each other's faces 24/7. Being unrepentant neat freaks with a seriously twisted sense of humor who had no problem calling each other out on their bullshit, they were far more alike than they had initially realized, but they still needed their alone time to avoid killing each other.

All in all, it was starting to freak Tig out that of the two, he seemed to be the one enjoying himself the most. Having missed out on so much, it was definitely an eye-opening experience getting to know his kid as an adult and to discover that, in their case, nature took precedence over nurture when it came to their similar personalities and likes and dislikes. They both hated root beer and loved dogs. They both avoided sitting in a room with their backs facing the door and they shared a unhealthy obsession with _The Real Housewives of Atlanta_ , swearing each other to secrecy.

But the reality of the situation was that the clock was ticking on whatever time he had left with Fawn in Charming. He was healing faster than his doctors had initially expected and, in spite of his still-healing hip, he was feeling better than he had in a long time. The time was fast approaching for Fawn to hit the road and get back to her life in Seattle. He had discussed the situation with Clay and Bobby and both agreed that he needed to try and get Fawn to stick around for a while longer, but he wasn't sure how to go about getting her to do that without outright asking her to.

He was reluctant to not out of a sense of pride, but because after the shitty father he had been, he had no right to ask her to continue putting her life on hold for him. But as he dug into his pasta, Tig also kept twisting the idea of getting her to stick around.

Before he knew what happened the words just flew out of this mouth. "So how long are you planning to stick around for?"

Fawn was in mid-bite when this hurried question was thrown at her. Watching her father, who was intently staring at her from across the dinner table, Fawn swallowed her mouthful of food, which seconds later hit her stomach like a lead weight, as she placed her fork on her plate.

 _Oh shit, he wants me to leave_ , Fawn moaned to herself knowing that things had been going just too good to last much longer _._

"Um, I don't know," Fawn hedged, trying to hide her disappointment behind the napkin she used to wipe her mouth. "I mean, I've been away from the shop for over a month now."

"Yeah, I know. I guess you kinda miss your work and all, right?"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe just a little." She admitted reluctantly.

"Well, you know I have been getting better and shit." Tig said slowly.

"Yes," Fawn replied weakly. "But you're still not at 100%."

"Far from it, but I can get around a lot easier and I know work means a lot to ya. I really don't wanna keep ya from that."

 _And you want your space and your life back, don't you_ , Fawn thought resignedly.

"It's just that, uh," Tig swallowed the lump in his throat and casually fiddled around with the fork in his pasta. "If you ain't in a rush and all, maybe you might wanna stick around . . . for a while longer." Avoiding looking at his daughter, Tig missed the light of joy and relief reflected in her eyes. "You know, Charming ain't a bad place, as far places go, you know. I mean, its' not Seattle or anything, but it's a nice place to live. People are kinda friendly around here, will actually talk to you in the street. Well, maybe _not_ if you're wearing a kutte, but shit, that's not a worry for you."

Fawn smiled slightly. "Yeah, I was kinda introduced to small town hospitality on Thursday," She started, a shimmer of hope coloring her voice. "A woman approached me at the Stop-N-Shop. She was happy to hear you were getting better, but, uh, actually, Dad, she offered me a job."

"Get the fuck out of here! That's great!" Tig nearly hollered, grinning, but just as quickly, tried toning it down. "I mean, that's nice. Working where?"

"At the hair salon in town."

"You mean Gina's on Main Street?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"That old broad's been around a long time." Tig commented. "I bet that shop could do with some new blood."

"So, you think I ought to take it?" Fawn nearly held her breath.

"Well, uh, yeah. I mean, shit, why not? I'm getting better, I mean not _that_ better, but I can get around by myself. You don't have to be chained to the house 24/7 watching me like I'm some invalid. Besides, it might do you some good to stick around town for a few months, you know, just until I'm totally on my feet again. Then I can give you a proper ride on my bike. Your mother always hated when I took you girls riding, said I went way too fast."

"Those were the best rides, _ever_." Fawn murmured, with a light in her eyes. "You _really_ think I should take the job?"

"Yeah, so, uh, you gonna?" Tig was now holding his breath.

"Why not?" Fawn giggled happily. "Seattle will do just find without me for a little while longer."

"Great!" Tig enthused, but coughed and managed to keep his excitement under control. "Just great."

* * *

Pulling her tank of a car into a vacant parking space, Fawn jumped out and slammed the door. Looking up, she put a hand over her eyes to block the sun as she looked at the garish sign on the two-story building: Gina's Cut-N-Curl.

Eyeing the bright neon pink sign, Fawn rolled her eyes. The storefront seemed more suited for a place like Reno and not a quaint small town like Charming.

The beauty shop, as Fawn couldn't quite bring herself to call it a salon—was one of four stores on what looked to be a derelict section of Main Street. Fawn looked across the street, smiling at Rita's (probably her most favorite shop in Charming), an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, a small jewelry shop and a vacant property. Turning to eye the dry cleaners and shoe repair shop on the right side of Gina's, the building to the left, a former appliance repair shop, was also vacant as it had recently gone out of business.

Turning her attention back to Gina's, she checked out the wide glass pane windows on each side of the door which displayed a good view of the shop's interior.

 _Damn, that's a hell of a lot of pink_.

Now wondering whether or not this was a good idea, Fawn adjusted her shoulder bag and walked into the shop.

* * *

"Hello, I'd like to speak to the owner, please. I've come about the job opening."

Gina looked up from the head of hair she was currently working on to see a young woman standing at the front desk speaking to her receptionist.

Gina pursed her lips as she took in the extremely tall redhead. She had seen her around town over the last month or so. _She certainly doesn't look like your typical small town girl_ , Gina thought, as she noted her funky, sexy clothes and the numerous tattoos on her person.

_So this is the girl Lexie is all hot about working with._

Just days before, her daughter had excitedly told her about her run in with the big city newcomer in town and her hopes of getting her interested in working at their salon. While they could definitely use the help, Gina wasn't sure about taking on another outsider, even if this one was living within Charming city limits and even if it was only temporary.

The more Lexie talked about the girl, however, the more inclined Gina became about giving her a shot. Putting down her scissors, she said, "Marcy, dear, I've got this." Walking over to the reception area, Gina held out a hand. "You must be the girl Lexie told me about."

Fawn's eyes widened as she reached out to shake the hand of the woman who had to be the near spitting image of Dolly Parton, right down to her big bosom. "I'm Fawn Trager. You must be Gina."

"That's right, honey. And your daddy is none other than Tig Trager." Gina smiled knowingly, deciding that she already liked the young woman. "That is one tall, cool glass of water on a hot day if there ever was one." Fawn fought to keep her professional composure, but as she caught a glimpse of the mischievous sparkle in Gina's steel-grey eyes, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Hey, I've been married to my second husband for almost forty years, been faithful as the day is long, but with all the eye candy courtesy of SAMCRO floating around town, one cannot help but take a peep every now and then. Makes you appreciate being a woman."

 _Amen to that, sister_ , Fawn's inner voice chimed in.

"As you can see," Gina continued, sweeping her hand tipped with pink acrylic nails and indicating the packed waiting area. "We are extremely busy. We're coming into the Spring and with that comes a butt load of town events and school dances, and before you know it, all that's quickly followed by proms, graduations, and weddings and, as Lexie told you, we are short two girls. Come this way, honey." With her hand on Fawn's elbow, Gina led her towards the empty station at the back of the salon. Stopping, Gina slapped a hand on the back of a swivel chair. "This is your workstation. As you can see, it's a pretty basic setup, but it's yours to do as you please. Since you are helping us out while we're jammed, I won't charge you a chair rental, but you will be working on a salary plus tips—"

"Whoa, Gina." Fawn interrupted her would-be new employer gently. "Are you offering me a job?"

Gina looked at Fawn as if she had just fallen out of an airplane. "I sure am, honey. Isn't that why you're here?"

Taken slightly aback, Fawn, who was stunned speechless, quickly found her voice. "Um, yeah. I am, but aren't you going to ask about my qualifications? Experience?"

Gina laughed prettily as she waved Fawn's concerns away. "Honey, Lexie's already taken care of all that for you. She scoured that www dot thing and found out all sorts of interesting things about you, like you graduated with a cosmetology degree from the Aveda Institute and that you are a L'Oreal-certified colorist." She explained to a dumbfounded Fawn. "If you ask me, you are way too qualified for the Cut-N-Curl," Gina almost whispered. "And I probably can't afford to pay you what you're worth, but you would be doing us a real big favor." Gina quickly explained the terms of employment and the salary. Fawn managed to contain her shock at what she would be earning if she took the job, which was considerably less than what she earned in Seattle.

 _Come on girl, you'll be working for ordinary people, not high rollers_ , her inner voice advised _. Besides this is only a temporary gig, right?_

"I have to admit, though, that I'm big on first impressions," Gina continued. "And honey, you sure impressed me. I learned everything I needed to know about you the minute you walked in. What better way to prove that you're a master at your craft than by using yourself as a canvas?" Gina admired Fawn's beautifully-styled dark red hair, which framed a pretty face with a peaches and cream complexion, its features enhanced to perfection with just the right amount of cosmetics. "Quite frankly, my girls could probably take a few lessons from you in that regard."

Fawn bit her full bottom lip as she gave the workstation a once-over. It was pretty basic all right, most of the equipment looking like it had rolled off the assembly line in the '70s. She'd probably have to dip into her own pocket to get some new "basics", like a proper diffuser/blow dryer, flat and curling irons, brushes, combs, and the brand of hair products she was accustomed to using, just to name a few. Knowing she should probably sleep on it, Fawn opened her mouth and promptly stuck her foot in it.

"When can I start?"


	10. Fawn to the Rescue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

"Jesus Christ, I still can't believe he did it." Holding her cell phone, Fawn was stretched out on her bed as she heard her dear friend Tina laughing hysterically on the other end of the line.

" _He really shot them?"_

"Uh huh. I guess I was too slow in moving them out of his bedroom." Fawn replied. "At least the asshole waited until I had stepped out of the room before shooting those damn dolls."

" _Well, there you go, sweetie. Look at this way, he probably shot those creepy looking things to avoid shooting you."_

"Gee, thanks. I hadn't looked at it that way. I feel _so_ much better." Fawn said sarcastically.

" _Fawn, honey, to know you is to love you." Tina said soothingly. "It just takes a while for people to get to know you, that's all. You are what Frank used to call, um, an acquired taste. Like broccoli rabe."_

"Shut up! I am not!" Fawn rolled her eyes.

Remembering how she had thrown the door open in a panic at the sound of gunshots, Fawn couldn't help but smile. Soon, the smile turned into all out laughter as she could see Tig in her mind's eye sitting triumphantly on his bed, Glock in hand, with a great big smile on his face. The stench of gunpowder and burnt plastic permeated the room as both life-like baby dolls lay blown to smithereens on the floor in front of his bed.

" _Ah, you see. You, my dear, are making great progress if you can appreciate the humor in this." Tina chuckled. "Sounds like your father and I share the same dark sense of humor."_

"Oh, yeah. He's a bucket of fun, too, that one."

" _Well, I'm sure that was just his way of celebrating the end of the Trager family therapy sessions." Tina assured her young friend. "So, is the air finally clear between you two?"_

Fawn rolled up and into a sitting position as she contemplated her answer. "We got a lot of shit sorted out, but girl, by the time we were done, I was glad I got rid of his alcohol. I would have been tempted to down half that shit myself."

" _Wow. I know it was hard for you, honey, but I am so proud of you for going through with it. You needed that probably more than he did." Tina said. "Life's too short and family's too precious to let slip away. Besides, you're getting too old to let abandonment issues keep you from enjoying a productive and happy relationship with a man that includes an emotional attachment."_

"Tina, what are you talking about now?" Fawn impatiently ran her hands through her loose hair.

" _What I'm always talking about where you're concerned, Fawn and stop pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about. We go through this every time." Tina said, sounding more like her mother than Colleen. "You are too young and too pretty and have pulled yourself out of too much shit to let your fear of commitment continue making you unhappy. A girl like you shouldn't hold herself back from having a real relationship out of fear of being left behind. And before you tell me that you haven't bailed on your last five boyfriends because you were running scared, don't because we both know you'd be lying. Let's not even get started with this seriously twisted love-hate thing you got going on—"_

"Oh no, you don't! Why do I even bother confiding in you?" Fawn snarked, but her friend was not stopping.

" _Hey, it sounds to me like you've already got another poor sucker on the hook in that one horse town of yours and are ready to throw him back. Maybe you might want to consider holding on to this one for a little bit. What was his name, Opie? And what kind of a name is that for a grown man anyway?"_

"I don't know and I don't care and how can I hold onto to something I have absolutely no interest in whatsoever anyway?" Fawn nearly whined.

" _Come on, dish. Tell me more about him." Tina ordered._

Fawn gave an exasperated sigh. "Opie Winston is annoying, rude, bossy, mean—did I mention annoying—rough, grouchy, sexy—"

" _Aha, sexy! I knew it was coming. He's a big one, isn't he?"_

"Yeah, so?"

" _So, that's how you like them, honey. Now go on, hair color, etc."_

"Reddish brown," Fawn replied begrudgingly. "Incredible deep green eyes, tall, solidly built, massive manly hands."

" _Hot damn!" Tina chuckled as Fawn's voice took on a dreamy quality. "That's what I'm talking about. Girl, you cannot release that one without a test drive or two!"_

"You know you're really sick, right? Like I-need-meds-type sick."

" _Hey, just appreciating the man, that's all._

"Well, there's nothing to appreciate. We fight all the damn time. He's a mean, ornery son of a bitch."

" _And you're just a perfect ray of sunshine, huh?" Tina snarked. "Anyway, you know what they say—it's a thin line between love and hate."_

"Look, I didn't call you to talk about a nonexistent relationship."

" _No, you called to bitch about your Dad. I don't know, but he sounds kind of hot to me, too."_

"Ha! Every man sounds hot to you. I wouldn't be surprised if you showed up in Charming one day just to check him out yourself."

" _Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Tina said hurriedly. "I've got a lot of shit keeping me busy here. Anyway, before you cut that man off at the knees, maybe you should give him a chance." She admonished. "It might be worth it."_

Fawn rolled her eyes. Sometimes it seemed that Tina was far more invested in finding her a man than Fawn was herself. Determined to change the subject, she decided to share her bit of news. "Okay, I'm done talking about my severely lacking love life and my certifiable father. Instead, why don't you congratulate me on my new temporary job at the local hair salon?"

" _What?!" Tina shrieked, and then quickly lowered her voice. "Girl, are you shitting me right now?" She whispered into the phone, leery that one of their co-workers would overhear. "Sasha is near going apeshit if you don't get back here soon."_

"I know, I know, but I just can't leave my Dad until he's back at 100%, but now that he's doing a little better, being around his crazy ass 24/7 is a little much. I needed the distraction and this opportunity just fell into my lap. It'll only be for another month or so. Please don't dime me out to Sasha. He owes me for the many times I've pulled his ass out of the fire and I figure I'll continue getting away with this shit as long as I can before I have to come back."

" _Oh, sweetie, I really miss you. I may get tempted to tell him just so that he'll haul ass down there and drag you back." Tina huffed. "Just promise that you'll call me on the regular more often."_

"I promise."

* * *

Fawn found herself making happy girl noises as her eyes took in the sight before her.

Rows upon rows of just about every hair care and beauty product in the Western hemisphere was on magnificent display on the gleaming shelves and in the glass display cases of the huge beauty supply superstore.

 _This was so totally worth making the trip out to Stockton for_ , Fawn thought to herself.

On her first day, Fawn found her workstation lacking in the equipment and products she needed to function properly and had decided to check out the storage area on the second floor. Flipping on the light switch, she shook her head as the lone light bulb dimly illuminated the room. Old equipment consisting of ancient dryers and broken chairs littered the room. Fawn had checked out storage bins and shelves filled with permanent wave solution, industrial size bottles of shampoo and conditioner, towels and other salon paraphernalia and wrinkled her nose at the unorganized mess.

_How am I supposed to find anything in here anyway? I can barely see in front of my face._

Sighing, Fawn had backed out of the room and closed the door, making a mental note to bring a flashlight with her next time to check it out more thoroughly. Turning around, Fawn noticed another door in the narrow hallway. Curious, she turned the knob and was surprised to find a large dusty room, filled with boxes and other junk. The room apparently ran the length of the shop below and was just as wide.

Fawn shook her head. _What a waste of precious space._ She assumed that the entire building was either owned or rented by Gina. Closing the door, she headed back down stairs empty-handed.

Not being able to find what she needed in the storage room, Gina had referred Fawn to what was considered the NorCal Mecca of the beauty industry. Beauty World was Stockton's largest supplier of hair and beauty products in a 50-mile radius. Having only two customers that morning, Fawn decided to extend her lunch break to make the 30-mile trek to Stockton.

Grabbing a shopping cart, Fawn happily spent the next hour going up and down the aisles getting all of the tools she needed to properly outfit her station, as well as some of the hair and beauty products she favored over the stuff Gina kept in stock. They were slightly more expensive, but the fine quality of the products made all the difference in the world. Like a woman who had just gone on a shopping spree for a new wardrobe, Fawn couldn't wait to get back to the salon with her new purchases and finish setting up her workspace.

Feeling guilty about keeping her boss in Seattle in the dark about her plans, Fawn had finally bit the bullet. She had called Sasha to let him know that she was extending her stay in Charming indefinitely. Horrified, he couldn't believe that she would willingly give up the bright lights of the big city and a top chair in his salon for a job in a backwater sleepy town in California. After completely losing his shit, calling her every name in the book, he had finally returned to his senses and wished her well, telling her that there would always be an open chair for her at his salon when she finally returned.

But as crazy as it seemed to her as well, Fawn was starting to realize that ifshe wanted some type of ongoing and meaningful relationship with her father, staying in Charming might be the way to do it. How could she not, especially since Tig had been the one to ask her to stick around for a while.

Initially, Fawn had seen working at Gina's as a way of keeping her busy and out of the house when not looking after Tig. It was also a way to make money to pay her rent in Seattle without having to dip into her substantial savings account to cover those costs.

But she was now starting to wonder if maybe Charming could become a home for her, like her father had originally intended.

Living in a small town and working in a small town salon was nothing like living and working in Seattle. And Fawn found that she didn't mind that one bit. Charming and its residents were starting to have its effect on her. Working in one of the top five salons in Seattle might look good on a résumé, but it could be cutthroat, cold, and impersonal—much like the clientele mostly made up of the city's rich and powerful elite.

Gina's salon, however, was very informal, warm and inviting. It was the sort of beauty shop where any client who sat down in one of Gina's hot pink and rhinestones covered chairs was looking for more than just a new 'do. They came to enjoy the fellowship offered by Gina, her girls, and other clients. They shared recipes and home remedies, discussed town politics, where to find the best sales, what Brangelina were up to, and of course, the hottest gossip about the town's own residents. And in a town the size of Charming, everyone knew everybody, and it amazed Fawn that Gina, Lexie and all the other girls managed to keep all of the gossip straight, hooting and cackling as they discussed scandals past and present. All in all, it made for a really fun and energetic environment. Certainly not something Fawn was accustomed to at _Flip It_.

Although it had taken her a minute to get used to not having someone to shampoo her customers or sweep up hair or any of the other mundane tasks associated with the styling of hair, Fawn adapted quickly. She knew that Gina's biggest concern hadn't been whether Fawn had the talent to do hair, but whether or not she would fit in and, if Fawn's first week was anything to go by, it didn't look like she would. Although everyone she had encountered in and out of the salon had been friendly, she was still an outsider, someone not to be trusted right way. That was especially true for women when it came to letting a perfect stranger work on their hair.

The first few days found Fawn literally twiddling her thumbs as, even though the shop was busy, she had no clients willing to sit in her chair. Even most walk-ins chose to wait to be served by Mary Ellen and Joanie, if Gina or Lexie were busy. It annoyed Fawn that she was sitting around while everyone else was busy and that clients had preferred to wait hours for someone they knew rather than give her a shot.

But on the third day her miracle had come in. Fawn smiled to herself as she thought about the moment everything changed for her at Gina's.

* * *

_The door to the salon tinkled as a woman entered. Ostensibly there for her daughter's appointment with Gina, the client was extremely upset that Marcy, the salon's receptionist, had double-booked the slot with another client, who was currently sitting in Gina's chair._

_With all the girls busy working on other clients, Gina asked if the woman would consider having Fawn work on her daughter. Considering the pair were attending a mother-daughter school function in a few short hours, the woman, although not happy, had no choice._

_Fawn, on the other hand, had been more than happy to take on the job. The girl, who was about 12 or 13 years old, sat gingerly in her chair while her mother sat across from her._

_Before allowing her to start, however, the obviously snooty society mother with a stick straight up her ass, questioned Fawn about her professional background. Not at all intimidated by the interrogation or withering look the girl's mother was casting at her, Fawn informed her of her former employment at Flip It. The moment she said the words, she could see that the woman was impressed and suspicious at the same time._

" _Really? That's a very upscale salon. If you don't mind me asking, what was your client base like?" She asked coyly._

_Fawn could see the woman didn't really believe her, but she knew her clientele were nothing to sneeze at. While she would never have done so with Gina, Fawn had no problem name-dropping with a woman who had the potential of being a regular for her._

" _My clientele was quite varied, which is not unusual for a city the size of Seattle. I did have a pretty loyal customer base of well-known and well-respected professionals you might have heard of—Gloria Upton, for one. She's one of the City's premier divorce attorneys. I've also worked for several prominent society women, with CeCe Armstrong being one of my best clients." Fawn was surprised when the little girl in her chair jumped._

_The woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh, you don't say? Can you hold on for just one moment, please?" Reaching into her designer handbag, she pulled out her i-Phone._

" _Uh oh," The little girl murmured. "I sure hope you weren't fibbing." She whispered as she gave Fawn the eye in the mirror._

_Fawn grinned. "Oh, I think everything will be just fine." She whispered back. Turning her attention back to the child's mother, Fawn waited for the woman's call to go through._

" _Hi, CeCe, dear. How are you? . . . Oh, I'm fine . . . And how is Gloria? . . . She really did do an excellent job with your divorce from Russell . . . Look, I just wanted to give you a quick call. You're not going to believe this, but I think I just ran into someone who claims to have done some work for you . . . Yes, she worked at that salon you're always raving about. Her name is Fawn—" Suddenly, the woman's eyes widened. "Really? . . . The best stylist in Seattle . . . Uh, why certainly. Hold on for a moment." Fawn could see the new found respect for her written all over the woman's face. "If you don't mind, CeCe would love to speak to you for a moment."_

_Taking the phone, Fawn grinned at the little girl in the mirror before putting it up to her ear. "Hello, Mrs. Armstrong, what a wonderful surprise to speak with you . . . Yes, I was really sorry to have to leave the salon so suddenly. It was totally unexpected . . . It looks unlikely that I will be returning to Seattle in the immediate future . . . I will definitely have the Salon contact you when I do return . . . Thank you so very much."_

_Handing the phone back to the society mom, and knowing that she had the woman's complete confidence, Fawn swiftly spent the rest of her time focused on her new client in her chair, engaging her daughter in conversation. Undoing the girl's long ponytail of brown hair shot through with blond, Fawn's practiced eye saw exactly how she wanted to style the girl's hair._

_The mother gave Fawn carte blanche to do what she wanted, which was cutting at least six inches of her hair into layers, and using a light rinse to bring out the girl's natural highlights._

_Three hours later, Fawn was finished with the final product. Having the girl change into the three-quarter length tea gown in Gina's bathroom that her mother brought along with her, the young girl made a stunning appearance, her hair more golden and reaching a few inches past her collarbone in curling tendrils around her face and shoulders. Fawn had outlined girl's lips with the palest pink lip gloss for a little color._

_Everyone in the shop oohed and ahhed and the young girl blushed and stammered at the attention. Needless to say, her mother was overwhelmed by seeing the little girl who enjoyed not only riding her father's horses on their estate, but also riding the rides at Fun Town blossoming on the cusp of womanhood._

_Karen Oswald, sister of CeCe Armstrong, paid for Tristan's new look happily and gave Fawn a very generous tip. "You know, I've been considering doing something a little different with my color, Fawn. Maybe I could set an appointment with you next week and we can talk about it."_

_Fawn was very gracious. "Absolutely, Mrs. Oswald. I'd be more than happy to work with you."_

* * *

And that was the start of business rolling in for Fawn.

Soon after working on Karen Oswald, giving the woman a stunning new look, word of mouth had spread like wildfire. With the increase of new business, the shop was busier than ever, making both Gina and Lexie giddy. Soon, Gina asked Fawn to work full weeks, instead of two or three days a week.

But in order for her to give her clients the very best service, Fawn needed to have the best products, which was why she made the trek to Beauty World.

Paying what was probably a small fortune for the three large bags of supplies, Fawn pushed her loaded shopping cart towards her car in the parking lot at the far end of the lot. As she walked past a long line of cars, Fawn cocked her head slightly as she heard a muffled commotion coming from at least a half of dozen yards away, but several large SUVs blocked her view of the drama.

Finally getting past the SUVs, Fawn was next to the trunk of her car and now had an unobstructed view of a young couple arguing several cars away.

"Why do you always have to be such a bitch?!"

Fawn sighed. _If that isn't the go-to mantra for all men when their girl isn't giving it up, I don't know what is._

Not wanting to appear like she was listening, Fawn went about putting her packages into her trunk, but the argument seemed to escalate as the young man tried to force the girl into his car.

"Chip, no! Please! How many times do I have to say it before you understand? I'm just not ready yet."

Fawn's head jerked up as she noted the tremor in the young girl's voice. It wasn't just fear she heard. By the slight slur of her words Fawn realized that the girl was probably drunk or high as well.

"Look, I've already waited four fuckin' weeks. How much longer do you expect me to wait? The guys were right about you. You're nothing but a fuckin' cocktease. This is what I get for dating a sophomore." The boy mocked.

"Chip, please, don't be mad at me." The girl whimpered.

"Then get in the fuckin' car and let's go. My parents aren't home and we'll have the place to ourselves. It's about time somebody broke you in, baby, and you said you loved me, so it's time for you to show it."

Fawn's eyes narrowed as she saw the tall, blond boy with a preppy haircut and dressed in the latest designer teen apparel grab the girl by the wrist. Almost twisting her arm, he tried shoving her once again towards the open door of a brand new model foreign-made sports car.

"I said NO, Chip!" The girl tried to struggle, but it was obvious that she was easily overpowered and unable to fight him off.

"Why, that little piece of shit." Fawn growled. Looking around and seeing no one else nearby, she reached into her trunk and grabbed her trusty tire iron. Slamming her trunk shut, Fawn stalked over to the struggling couple.

"Hey! Asshole! She said 'NO'! Are you fuckin' deaf or just plain stupid?!"

The boy turned and saw Fawn standing behind him, his view of the tire iron in her hand obscured by the rear bumper of his car. "Bitch, why don't you mind your business?! This ain't got shit to do with you!"

"The hell it don't. She doesn't want to go with you. I heard her from all the way down there. Now let her go and be on your way, or I'll call the cops." Fawn demanded angrily.

Looking at Fawn up and down, the boy laughed. "Fuck you!" Sneering, he turned his back on her, intent on shoving the girl into his car through the driver's side door.

_Okay, I guess we're doing this the hard way._

Suddenly, the boy jerked as he heard the sound of breaking glass. Spinning around so fast that the girl he was struggling with fell to the ground, he screamed at the top of his voice "WHAT THE FUCK?!" as Fawn brought the tire iron against the left rear headlight, having already destroyed the one the right. "GET AWAY FROM MY CAR, YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

Lunging forward to grab her, the boy stopped short as Fawn changed her stance and swung the tire iron as if it were a bat. "Take one more step, Fly Boy, and I'll splatter your brains all over your pretty little car. Now, unless you want me to finish going to town on your Beamer, you'll get the fuck out! NOW!"

Suddenly, Fawn heard a voice call out from behind her. "I'm calling the cops! I saw you attacking that girl! You better get out of here, asshole!" Looking over her shoulder, Fawn sighed with relief at the middle-aged woman holding a couple of shopping bags in one hand and a cell phone in the other. "I mean it, douche bag."

"Shit!" Looking over at the girl who had managed to scrabble up from the ground, the boy spit at her feet. "You are so not worth this shit." Jumping into his car, the Beamer's tires burned rubber as it pealed out of the strip mall's parking lot.

Dropping the tire iron by her side, Fawn made her way to the girl. "Are you okay, honey?" The girl's eyes looked a little glassy, but Fawn wasn't sure whether or not it was shock or something she was on.

"I . . . I—" The girl stammered.

"Oh my, is she all right?" The brown-haired woman came up behind Fawn. "I couldn't believe that dirt bag."

"I think we need to get her to sit down." Fawn guided the young girl back to her car, opening the passenger side and pushing the girl down on the seat. "She could use some cold water."

"Wait, I have a bottle right here." The woman reached into one of her shopping bags and pulled one out, handing the bottle to Fawn.

Breaking the seal, Fawn grabbed some paper towels out of her glove compartment. Wetting some with water, she used them to wipe the girl's face, which was oily and sweaty from her exertions. Then she held the bottle up to her mouth. "Drink it." When the girl shook her head, Fawn wouldn't take no for an answer. "I said drink it or I _will_ shove it down your throat."

The other woman's eyes widened, but she didn't protest and the girl finally accepted the water. Taking a few sips at first, she suddenly tipped the bottle back and slurped down the entire bottle. Soon, Fawn could see the color returning to her cheeks and Fawn was glad to see that the girl's blue-green eyes were no longer glassy.

"Better?" Fawn asked.

The girl nodded. "Yes." Looking at Fawn, who was crouched down in front of her, the girl licked her lips. "Thanks a lot. I, I didn't know he was going to do that." Making eye contact with the other woman, she continued. "Thanks for stepping in."

The woman waved her hand. "It was no problem, honey, but you need to be careful. It's always the nicely-dressed, good-looking ones you have to look out for, isn't it? He's probably some rich little asshole that thinks he can get away with shit like this." Sighing, the woman continued. "Not for nothing, but why aren't you in school? I can't believe you're over 18."

"I . . . I—" The girl cast her eyes down shyly.

"I can probably guess," Fawn said wryly. "Well, since he's left you high and dry, do you have a way to get home?"

Suddenly, the girl looked around. "Oh, no! My bag was in his car. How am I going to get home?"

"Well, that's a pickle. I wish I could offer you a ride honey, but I have to get back to work."

"Don't worry about her." Fawn replied. "I can give her a lift home."

"That's really nice of you." The woman said. "I heard the commotion but I didn't having anything readily available to take that jerk on. I was really glad when I saw you with that tire iron, but you should really be careful. That douche bag might show up with the cops and accuse you of vandalism. Here, take my card." The women reached into her handbag and pulled out a business card. "I work at the insurance office at the other end of the strip mall. If that asshole should try to cause you any trouble, give me a call and I'll vouch for what I saw."

Reading the name on the card, Fawn smiled. "That's really nice of you, Amy. Thanks." Offering her hand, she introduced herself to her crime-fighting partner. "My name's Fawn and, if you're ever in Charming, stop by Gina's Cut-N-Curl. That's where I work and I'll hook you up."

Fawn narrowed her eyes as the girl suddenly jerked, but she spoke up adding her thanks. "Thank you, Amy. I really appreciate your help."

Waving goodbye, the woman headed towards her office.

Fawn took a good look at her new charge. The girl was quite attractive, tall with delicate curves and beautiful sable-colored hair that framed a heart-shaped face. "What's your name?"

The girl's eyes wandered about. "Um, I know it's probably kinda rude after everything you've done for me and I really, really appreciate it, but—"

"You'd rather not say?"

The girl nodded.

"Okay, I get that. Will you at least tell me where you live so I can take you home?" Fawn asked.

The girl wet her lips again. "Actually, I don't live too far from Charming, so if you're headed that way, that would be great."

_Uh huh, something tells me that this is going to turn into some complicated shit._

* * *

As the powerful Buick streaked down the I-22 heading to Charming, Fawn quickly cut her eyes to the side. Her young passenger looked lost in the large bench seat as she silently stared out the window with her long slender hands folded in her lap.

 _Boy, that look is all too familiar_ , Fawn thought. Disappointment, despair, fear, and loneliness were written all over her anonymous rescue's face and, estimating the girl to be no older than sixteen, Fawn knew those feelings at her age all too well.

As teens, Fawn and her older sister Dawn had been no strangers to trouble. Dawn, however, always managed to find someone to get her ass out of a bind. Fawn hadn't been so lucky and seeing the events in the parking lot unfold brought back to vivid life some of her own painful experiences. Back then, she had prayed for someone, _anyone_ , to intervene on her own behalf. Maybe if someone had she wouldn't have spent most of her teen years enrolled in the University of Hard Knocks.

Although Fawn knew next to nothing about the young girl sitting on her right, she had learned enough through her own experience to know that sometimes a little empathy and compassion went a long way in getting through to someone in need. It was unlikely that the young girl would listen, but Fawn knew she at least had to try.

Keeping her eyes on the road in front of her, Fawn chose to break the silence. "So, Chip, huh? I'm not making a judgment call—that's not true, yes I am—but personally, I couldn't date a guy named after a cartoon chipmunk."

Hearing the sudden choked snort, Fawn smiled. "Uh, actually, it's short for Charles."

"Oh, you don't say? _Charles_ , hmm?" Fawn said in the snootiest voice she could manage. "Chip's folks pretty well-to-do?" She briefly met the eyes of her companion.

The young girl shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you can say that."

"Well, I've learned first-hand in the past—and very recently as well, I might add—that how a person dresses doesn't necessarily determine the kind of person they are. That's usually a good thing, too, but sometimes, someone like Chip sneaks in under your radar. He looks good and may treat you good, at first, but when he hears something he doesn't like, like 'no', the claws come out. That was a very scary situation for you back there, wasn't it?" Fawn asked and the girl hesitated at first, but nodded. "So what happened?" Fawn continued. "He invited you to ditch school and drive all the way to Stockton where you could smoke a little weed, maybe drink a little, and not run the chance of getting caught?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Fawn could see the girl get deathly pale. "Uh, I don't smoke weed—"

"Really?" Fawn leaned towards the girl and sniffed.

"Oh my God, you can smell it on me?" The girl was aghast.

"Yeah. I can see it in your bloodshot eyes, too."

The car was suddenly silent.

Fawn continued. "I'm not judging you, sweetie. The last thing I want is to come across like some sanctimonious adult who forgot what it's like to be a teen. You might, however, hear some preaching out of me because I remember just a little too well what it's like being in your shoes. I was probably your age, maybe a little older, when I hit rock bottom and it's an ugly place to be all by yourself."

The girl turned her head to look at Fawn. "What happened to you?"

Fawn shook her head. "What didn't happen to me? To start, I was lonely and confused and lacked self-esteem. In other words, I was a prime target, especially since I was desperate to fit in somewhere, anywhere. I ended up falling in with what I later found out was the _wrong_ crowd. It all started somewhat innocent—drinking, smoking weed and cutting class. Eventually, though, I spiraled out of control. You name it, I did it. That is, until I found the one drug that hit the sweet spot for me. Heroin made me not care that I didn't fit in, it made me not care that I was unhappy. As long as I was high, nothing could hurt me . . . until one day it did."

Fawn could tell that the girl was caught up in her story. "Did you OD?"

Fawn nodded. "I woke up in the hospital. I found out after how lucky I really was because the last thing I remember was partying at my dealer's house. Apparently, someone tapped me with a speedball, a mix of coke and heroin. I ended up convulsing on a pile of garbage outside the doors of a hospital emergency room. Some cop was on his way back from getting coffee and spotted me. He had been sitting vigil for his partner who had been gunned down by a drug dealer just a few hours before. He saved my life when my _friends_ had left me to die. Unfortunately, his partner didn't make it."

"God, that's horrible."

"Yeah, I know. That cop came to see me once I woke up. He told me how I had been left to die on that heap of garbage by probably the same crowd responsible for his partner's death. He wasn't angry and didn't make threats. He just asked me to get better. He said that me getting clean and staying that way meant that his partner didn't die in vain. Let me tell ya, it was a kick in the ovaries to hear him say it like that. Made me realize for the first time that it wasn't just myself I was hurting."

Fawn saw the wide eyes and knew she had her audience.

"There is a bright side to this story. Ten years later, here I am, stone cold sober and I couldn't be happier. Every June 29th, I remember Patrolman Lenny Watson and I recommit to staying sober." Fawn leveled a glance at the girl. "Now, I didn't just unload on you all my personal shit to kill some time, little girl. I shared it because even though I don't know you, I see myself in you. Most people drink or do drugs for one of two reasons—one, for recreational fun or two, to escape their problems. The majority fall into the first category. They enjoy the moment and let it go. The latter is a whole lotta shit you want to avoid. Once the initial high is gone, your problems are still there. So you up the ante by getting high more often. Instead of just getting high at parties, you need to get high to function. Before you know it, you're so used to the feeling that it doesn't help you forget anymore, so you step it up and move onto something that will give you a better high. The next thing you know, you end up on a pile of garbage. So be honest with yourself. What category are you in?"

The girl took a long time to answer. "The second."

Fawn swallowed the lump in her throat. "Is it just weed or something more?"

The girl shook her head. "Most of the time it's just weed. Sometimes we drink too."

Fawn turned her attention back to the road. "If you get just one thing out of this whole situation, I hope it's that you realize that there are other ways to deal with being sad or lonely or confused. People like Chip will use those feelings against you by pretending that they care just so that they can get what they want from you. And when they don't get it, it can get ugly real fast. Is there someone you can talk to, like your parents?"

The girl shook her head. "No."

"Then a teacher, a counselor, maybe an aunt or uncle, some adult you trust that won't judge you because you need someone to talk to. Look, if I hadn't been in that parking lot today, what do you think would have happened?"

"I don't want to think about it." The girl closed her eyes as she shuddered.

"Chip was determined to get something out of you today and rape is not the way anyone should be introduced to sex. Just think about talking to someone. Please." Feeling that she had said a mouthful, Fawn settled back into the silence as she drove the last few miles into Charming.

* * *

Pulling into downtown Charming, Fawn felt a hand on her arm. "I guess you're ready to get out?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah. There's a bus depot a couple of blocks—"

"Yeah, I know where it is." Pulling up in front of the station, Fawn turned to look at her passenger. "Are you sure you're going to be okay here?"

The girl nodded. "I have a friend I can call who will pick me up." The girl hesitated. "I want to thank you."

Fawn shook her head. "No sweat. I'm just glad I was in the parking lot to help."

"I don't mean just about the parking lot. Thank you for talking to me like I'm not some stupid kid. I really appreciate you sharing your story with me and I'm glad that you made it through all that."

"Anything I can do to help." Fawn smiled. "Just promise me you'll consider talking to someone."

"I will. I mean, I promise. I just don't know if I can do it right away."

"Soon as you can then, okay?" Fawn reached for her hobo bag on the backseat and dug around until she found one of the cards for Gina's shop. "Here, this is where I work." Flipping it over on the back, Fawn scribbled her cell number. She held out the card. "Go on. Take it."

The girl hesitated at first, and then took it.

"I'm in town only for a few months, but if you ever need to talk, you can give me a call, all right?"

"All right. Thanks." Reaching for the door, she got out and slammed it behind her. Bending her head through the open window, the girl smiled. "By the way, I have to say, this is a really sweet ride. My Dad would really like it."

Fawn watched as the young girl in her black denim skirt and red tank top headed inside the bus depot, probably to make a collect call for someone to come and pick her up. Fawn considered pulling off to the side until she was sure the girl was picked up, but figured that would be a violation of her privacy and trust.

Resolved to the fact that she would probably never hear from the girl again, Fawn pulled out into traffic, totally clueless to just how wrong she was.

* * *

Struggling with her bags, Fawn used her ass to push open the door of the shop and entered into a land of chaos.

Gina was running back and forth from her station and a supply cabinet, hastily grabbing items and throwing them into a large duffel bag while Mary Ellen and Joanie looked on.

Dropping her bags in one of the reception chairs, Fawn put a hand on her hip. "Hey, where's the fire?"

Gina stood still for a minute trying to catch her breath. "I've got a hair emergency!"

"A what?"

"A hair emergency." Joanie popped her gum as combed out another section of her client's hair to wrap around a large pink roller. "Tish Landry, Gina's regular from Modesto, is about to have a stroke. One of her boys decided to pull a prank on one of his buddies and rigged a can of paint to dump on his head, only it was Tish that opened the door leading to their backyard first."

"Oh shit!" Fawn chortled. "Hey, wasn't she here just this morning getting her hair done?"

"Yes! Tonight's her 25th wedding anniversary. She and her husband are renewing their vows before a dinner dance at some fancy reception hall." Gina exclaimed. "Instead of that beautiful shade of strawberry blonde I gave her this morning, her hair's Royal Blue and she's threatening to jump off the rooftop after she kills her son if I can't do something to fix it. She's refusing to be seen in public, so I have to head out there now to see what I can do."

"Dang, Gina. Your 2:00 is about to walk through that door any minute now. She is going to be pissed you're dumping her," Mary Ellen retorted. "And I'm telling you right now, Gina Rae Dawson, I ain't working on her 'cause Lord knows she don't like me none." She advised in her East Texas twang.

"And don't be lookin' at me either." Joanie chimed in. "Make Fawn do it." The two operators started cackling and laughing.

Gina whipped her head around. "Actually, that is probably a good idea. Can you take care of her, Fawn? I would really appreciate it. It's just a simple color/highlight job. She won't be any trouble."

At that, the cackling turned into howls of laughter.

Fawn flashed Gina a suspicious look just as the door tinkled, signaling a new customer. "And just who is your 2:00?"

"That would be me, sweetheart."

Fawn's heart sank in her chest as she heard the husky voice and turned around to face Gemma Teller-Morrow.

* * *

Gemma crossed her booted ankles and watched as Fawn quickly and efficiently put away the last of her purchases. Taking a good look at the booth, Gemma eyed the neat and professional workspace, not allowing her approval of Fawn's obvious orderliness to show on her face. _It's certainly more organized than Gina's_ _mess of a booth_ , Gemma noted, feeling more at ease. She couldn't stand clutter, believing in the old adage that a cluttered environment was representative of a cluttered mind.

The Queen Mother of Charming did not appreciate being shoved off on somebody else, but if it had to be someone other than Gina, she supposed it was better that it was Fawn than one of those two cackling bitches at the front of the shop. Gina had been Gemma's personal stylist for as long as she had owned the shop, which was a good many years and was the only person that she allowed anywhere near her hair, with the rare exception of Gina's daughter Lexie.

_After all, having terrorized the woman into doing exactly what I want with my hair, I'm not really interested in re-training a newbie._

But Gemma had put off getting her regular touch up for a couple of weeks and now she was going to have to pay the price by having to school the young woman standing in front of her on how to do her hair in the exact way she wanted it.

Fawn crossed her arms and leaned against the short partition that separated her station from the prying eyes at the front of the salon. Eying the Dowager Queen of Charming sitting in her chair, Fawn could see that a battle royale was about to take place.

 _How do I go about telling this woman, who is definitely in a class by herself, that her current hairstyle died a natural death about fifteen years ago?_ Fawn pondered as she bit her lip. _Okay, maybe that's a bit harsh. It's not a bad style . . . for someone twenty years younger._

Fawn's rule of thumb was that the longer a woman was in the tooth, the shorter her hair should be. Hair past the shoulders, almost touching the small of the back, only really worked on women about Jolene Teller's age. Older women with hair that long looked like crones. _And Gemma is definitely not old crone material_ , Fawn thought as she eyed the tight jeans on an ass that could still fit on a dime and have nine cents leftover and a tight rack Fawn would kill for. _But none of that means shit without the right hair_. _Now, how do I convince her to let me change it without her gutting me like a fish_?

Uncrossing her arms, Fawn approached Gemma and, swiveling the chair around, allowed her piercing blue eyes to meet her client's dark ones in the large mirror above her workstation as she stood behind her.

"So what did you have in mind today?" Fawn asked, running her hand under and through Gemma's hair to feel the thickness and texture.

"What I always have in mind. Get rid of the gray, redo my highlights and trim ¾ of an inch. No more, no less."

Taking a comb from her workstation, Fawn quickly parted Gemma's hair to give it a thorough examination. "You have a pretty healthy head of hair. Strong roots, no split ends, moisture laden without being oily or bone dry. It's good to see that you obviously take good care of your hair."

Gemma acknowledged all of Fawn's points without comment as Fawn continued pawing through her hair

"I know I heard one coming, so what's the 'but'?" Gemma countered.

Fawn smoothed Gemma's hair down before lightly placing her hands on her shoulders. "It's not so much a 'but' as a 'maybe'."

" _Maybe_ what?" The biker queen eyed her with a frown.

Fawn sighed. _This is not going to be easy._ " _Maybe_ you might want to consider doing something new—" She started, but the Queen Mother interrupted.

"I'm not interested in anything 'new'." Gemma emphasized that fact with air quotes. "I know what works for me, sweetheart," She retorted. "And despite the fact that you're Tig's kid, I'm not interested in having the new girl 'experiment' on me."

Gemma almost jumped in her seat as she saw the fiery sparks in Fawn's eyes through the mirror. "With all due respect, I may be 'new' in town, but I'm not new to the profession. It's been my bread and butter for the last eight years and I _never_ risk my hard-earned reputation by experimenting on my clients. When I want to create a new look, I don't _try_ it. I _do_ it. _Trying_ is for suckers and amateurs, and I'm neither."

Gemma had to bite the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Second, I only made the suggestion because I thought a woman as well put together as yourself would want something a little more flattering than overdone platinum highlights."

Caught off guard, Gemma nearly choked on her indignation. "Oh, really?" She asked derisively. "And just what would you suggest for a 'woman as well put together' as I am?"

Realizing that she was already hip deep in it, Fawn decided to just plough the rest of the way through. "Most definitely a different color to start. You have a wonderful skin tone. Have you ever considered going red—"

"I'd go bald first." The tone brooked no argument.

"Okey dokey, then. Should I use a razor or would you prefer my clippers?" Fawn snarked.

"I see someone has jokes." Gemma shot an arched eyebrow at her.

Fawn threw up her hands. "I guess that's because since you insist on not taking me seriously, I might as well give you a legit reason not to."

_It's time to take decisive action here._

Grabbing a hold of a section of Gemma's hair, Fawn spread it out against the palm of her hand. "Look at that. Now tell me what you see."

"I see my hair with highlights. I may be getting older, but my eyes are fine and I'm not senile either."

"Are you so sure about that?" Fawn replied sarcastically, but quickly continued as Gemma flashed her with a look that said she was pushing it. "I understand you've pretty much stuck with this look for a long time, right?"

"Yeah. _And_?"

" _And_ it shows. After a while, layering your highlights creates a problem. Eventually, your highlights will just blend together and you won't have the 'highlight effect' anymore. Take a good look and tell me what you see."

Gemma sighed and looked in the mirror and shrugged. "Maybe I see a lot of blonde." She reluctantly responded.

"Exactly, and as a woman gets older—"

"Old?!" Gemma almost shrieked, drawing attention from the women in the front of the salon.

"I _said older_ , not old. The last thing an _older_ woman wants to do is draw attention to the harsh plains and wrinkles on her face by framing it in an overly dramatic way, such as with a bright platinum shade that would be more suited for someone with fresher skin." Fawn explained.

"You mean, younger, don't you?" Gemma smirked at her through the mirror.

"Yeah, I do, but I was trying to spare your ego." Fawn smirked back. "Personally, I would think that the SAMCRO matriarch would rather deal in realities than bullshit niceties."

_Either I am getting senile, or I'm starting to really like this girl._

"Then cut to the chase and tell me what you recommend." Gemma demanded brusquely.

"Lowlights."

"What-lights?"

"Lowlights are highlights in a darker shade—" Fawn started explaining but was cut off.

"No. Forget it. Just give me what I came for." Gemma demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You cut me off." Fawn said indignantly.

"Yeah, I did. I don't want to go darker. And I think you're wrong. The blonde actually softens my skin tone."

"You're not taking me at all seriously, are you?" Fawn put her hand on her hip. "I don't mean to brag because I usually let my work speak for itself, but in Seattle I would be charging you $250 for this consultation alone."

Gemma gave her a look that hid just how impressed she was with the clearly capable and competent young woman. "Well, we're not in Seattle now, are we, sweetheart?"

"True, but we're also not stuck in the early 90s, are we, darling?" Fawn retorted. "I'm sorry, Gemma. I was really looking forward to working with you, but if you won't even hear me out, I'm afraid that you will have to rebook an appointment with Gina because I cannot give you what you want."

"What?!" Gemma was clearly shocked.

Fawn shook her head. "I'm sorry. The customer may always be right, but not when she sits in my chair. I can't let you pressure me into giving you something I know doesn't suit you. I'm sure Marcy can fit you into Gina's schedule sometime early next week."

Stunned speechless, all Gemma could do was sit and stare at Fawn open-mouthed. Finally finding her voice, Gemma cleared her throat. "You wanna tell me more about these lowlights?"

* * *

"Hmph."

"I don't like the sound of that." Gemma groused. After nearly four hours of sitting in front of a covered mirror, she was on the last drop of the patience she had on reserve. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. I must be out of my fuckin' mind."

"Hey, don't blame yourself. It's my secret superpower. Once they're in my chair, I can pretty much convince my clients to do exactly what I want."

"Really?" Gemma said derisively. "Well, just remember, I have a Clubhouse full of bikers that can make your ass disappear if I don't like what I see."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." Fawn snickered.

"Hey, I let you cut my hair, didn't I?" Gemma asked. "Oh shit! I can't believe I let you cut my hair!"

"Actually, I can't either." Fawn replied honestly. "That's why I waited to tell you until the last possible minute.

"Sneaky bitch."

From Fawn's experience, she had come to realize that sometimes clients needed to be eased into new situations. Dropping a barrage of changes—new color, cuts, waves, the whole nine yards—all at once would more than likely send them running for the door screaming in abject terror.

Which was why Fawn waited until after shampooing her hair to pull out her case of scissors.

"What the fuck are those for?"

"It's for your haircut, and I'm not talking ¾ of an inch either." Fawn spent the next twenty minutes nagging Gemma until she finally caved in. Having worked her skills, Fawn then insisted on re-doing Gemma's make up as well and now she was ready to do the big reveal.

The bell tinkled signifying that someone had entered the shop. "Fawn? Are you still back there?"

"I am. With Gemma and I'm about to show her her new look. Come and tell me what you think." Fawn heard not only the clicks of Gina's mules, but the clomping footsteps of Mary Ellen and Joanie, who had made the wise decision of staying at the front of the shop and out of the line of fire after hearing the loud argument erupt between Gemma and Fawn before everything got deathly quiet.

Rounding the partition, Gina stopped dead in her tracks, with her two operators running into her.

"Oh. My. God." She gasped.

"Oh shit! What did you do to me?" Gemma yelled as she saw the wide-eyed expressions of the three women. "Take that damn thing off the mirror. Right. Now!"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Okay." Swiveling the chair so that it faced the mirror, Fawn stood to the side as she quickly whipped off the sheet. "Ta-da!"

For a moment, Gemma just stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

"Well?" Fawn said impatiently. "If you're gonna kill me, please don't draw it out and just get it over with."

Gemma ran her fingers through her hair. Now reaching her collarbone, Fawn had removed at least six inches, cutting it with a combination of scissors and a razor into soft layers. Her hair was shot through with subtle dark caramel-colored lowlights and hints of burgundy that framed her face, softening its hard lines and making it appear fuller and younger.

Using a line of very expensive organic cosmetics, Fawn applied them with a light hand, playing up Gemma's eyes and cheeks in warm earthy tones that literally made the biker queen look almost ten years younger.

"Well?" Fawn said again.

Gemma swiveled the chair to face Fawn and the other dumbstruck women.

"I guess I won't need to call Happy after all."

The praise wasn't a lot. Fawn wasn't expecting a lot of effusive thanks. But coming from the SAMCRO Dowager Queen, it was enough.

* * *

Paying for her treatment at the cash register, Gemma turned to hand Fawn her tip. Fawn's eyes widened at the amount, but she didn't comment as she slipped it into the pocket of her coverall and handed a card to Gemma.

"Just ask for Diane at the counter. I called ahead for you and she'll have all of your cosmetics set aside so all you have to do is pay for the order."

"Ha! Who would've thunk that Gina's Cut-N-Curl would provide full-service makeovers? You might want to hang onto this one, Gina." Gemma finally let herself smile.

"Oh, I plan on holding onto her for as long as I can." Gina beamed, still marveling at Gemma's new look.

The matriarch cocked her head at Fawn. "Walk with me outside."

Standing outside, Gemma stood by the passenger door of her Caddy, which was parked in front of the shop. "So what are you doing on Sunday?"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing really. As usual, Dad and I will probably just veg out on the sofa."

"Not this Sunday you won't. You've been ducking invitations for Sunday dinner long enough." Gemma said decisively.

Seeing that Fawn was about to protest, Gemma held up a finger. "Hey, you do beauty, that's your skill. I do family. That's _mine_. And since Tig is family, that means so are you. He needs to be with his brothers and you need to learn how to play nice with your new extended family."

Fawn smiled. "If you mean Jolene, we've already started _playing_ nice."

"I know. She really wants you there on Sunday. But I was referring to Opie."

"I don't have a problem with Opie!" Fawn quickly protested. "That is, when he's not acting like a complete asshole, which is all the damn time!"

Gemma smirked. "Interesting. For someone you allegedly don't have a problem with, the mere mention of him sure does get you riled up, don't it? I've known Opie Winston since he was a baby and he is truly one of the good ones. You obviously know how to rub him the wrong way. Now it's time for you to learn how to rub him the _right_ way. And you can get started this Sunday." Gemma walked around the front of her car and opened the driver's side door. "You and Tig show up at 4:00. And bring a dish. Enough for at least twenty." Getting into her car, Gemma drove off leaving Fawn standing on the sidewalk in shock.

_Damn it!_

* * *

"I don't know why you're panties are all in a twist." Tig said as he got out of the passenger seat of Fawn's car, managing to stand easily on his own with a pair of crutches. Although he was healing quite well, it would be some time before he would be able to ride again and had been forced to make do getting around in cages.

"My _thong_ is not in a twist, damn it. I'm just not in a sociable mood is all."

Tig sniffed. "You've been downright bitchy all weekend. Are you PMS'ing? If you are, you really need to do something about that shit."

Fawn glared at her father as she slammed the driver's door and opened the back door to let Rocco out before retrieving the large aluminum pan of homemade macaroni and cheese from the trunk.

Trying to calm Rocco down while balancing the still-hot food in one arm, Fawn groused. "Why is it that men always assume that it's PMS that's causing a woman's bad mood?"

"Prolly because it usually is. I tell ya, I dodged a real bullet after your mother took off for Oregon with two preteen girls. At least I didn't have to live with _three_ hormonal women on the rag at the same time. That shit probably would have driven me to eat my gun."

"That can still be arranged, Dad."

Stomping up to the Morrow's front door, Fawn exhaled loudly. _Sunday dinner. Here's hoping it's not as painful as it sounds._

Before she could ring the doorbell, it suddenly opened to reveal Maddy Teller with her two sidekicks, her little brother TJ and best friend Moby Harlan.

"Aw! I thought you were Kenny." She eyed the tall woman disappointedly, but her blue-green eyes suddenly sparkled. "Boy, my Daddy was right. _That_ is a horse." She exclaimed.

Rocco, spotting the little girl and quickly ascertaining her playfulness, let out a series of happy barks, his tail wagging hard enough to make his backside move side to side.

"I heard his name's Rocco. He'd make three of Chopper." Moby added as he shoved a floppy patch of dark brown hair out of his eyes.

"Can I ride him like a horsey?" Four-year old TJ grinned.

"Uh, no you can't." Fawn declared.

Maddy eyed Fawn warily. "Well, come on in. _You_ ," She indicated Fawn. "Can go to the kitchen. That's where all the old ladies are at." She then flashed a bright smile at the patch standing next to Fawn. "Hiya Tig. How you doing?"

"Hey, squirt. I'm all right."

"When you going to show me how to change an alternator?" Maddy put her little balled up fists on her hips.

"As soon as I get my ass back in the garage, Kid." Tig replied. "I promise."

"Cool. Everybody else is in the backyard." Maddy announced.

"Well, that's my cue." Tig grinned as he headed around the back of the house. Calling over his shoulder, he advised his daughter, "Now go make nice with Mommy."

"Kiss my ass." Fawn called out. Turning to meet the scrutiny of the three kids, Fawn grimaced. "So, you gonna invite me in or what?"

Maddy shrugged her shoulders indifferently. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Grabbing hold of Rocco's collar, the SAMCRO Princess walked inside, her cohorts following in her wake.

Fawn entered the foyer of the Morrow home and closed the door behind her. Admiring the well-appointed and homey surroundings, she followed the high-pitched women noises straight to the kitchen.

The small kitchen was bustling with activity. While several old ladies were working at the small kitchen table as they chopped ingredients under Neeta's direction, others were setting up food on the long dining room table to be moved to the picnic tables set up in the backyard.

And in the midst of all the confusion, the two SAMCRO Queens reigned supreme as they gave orders. However, there was a sudden lull in the conversation as she entered the scene as she was thoroughly examined from head to toe.

And it was no wonder. Taking special care with her appearance for what was her first SAMCRO Sunday family dinner since arriving in Charming, Fawn was dressed to kill in skin tight skinny jeans with a flowing off the shoulder blouse the exact same shade as her eyes. With her fiery red hair gathered into a casual knot at the top of her head, several large tendrils framing her heart-shaped face and huge silver hooped earrings and a matching chunky silver bracelet, the young woman looked extremely sexy and put together.

"Damn," Fawn heard one of the younger old ladies whisper to her companion. "I got to get my ass down to Gina's ASAP." Smiling at the prospect of a possible new client, Fawn turned her attention to the Queen Mother.

"Well it's about time your ass got here!" Gemma exclaimed as she put down a large pan of potato salad.

Fawn raised an eyebrow as, even though the comment was snarky in structure, the tone was not only civil, but down right cheery and upbeat for the matriarch of the Club.

 _That's the effect a new 'do can have on a woman_.

"Well, it would have been a lot easier getting here if Tig would have just let me tie him to the roof of the car like I wanted. But no, his cranky ass insists on riding _inside_ the car." Fawn snarked as she added her contribution to the already-groaning table of food. Fawn surveyed all the happy activity. "Ain't this typical? The women slaving away in a hot kitchen, while the men are kicked back doing shit."

"You sound surprised," Jolene cracked as she took a plate of deviled eggs from one of the old ladies, quickly rearranging them to look nicer and then directed the young woman to take the plate outside. "We've got a backyard full of bikers convinced it's still 1967. Truth be told, though, they'd be lost without us."

Neeta snorted. "Amen, girl." She retorted as she placed a pan of fried chicken on the table. Greeting Fawn with a warm hello, the older woman pulled back the aluminum foil on the pan Fawn had placed on the table and took a good long look at the golden brown cheesy pasta. "Hmm. I heard you know what you're doing in the kitchen. Still, I think I better take this and do a proper taste test. Just to be sure." She winked at Fawn as she quickly took the macaroni and cheese into the kitchen.

"We might not see that heifer or that pan ever again." Gemma teased.

Meanwhile, Fawn eyed the young queen's obvious OCD tendencies as she arranged and rearranged the dishes laid out on the dining room table and grinned, realizing that the two of them actually had something in common. After the long conversation they'd had several weeks ago, Fawn found herself warming up to Jolene. They had even promised to make some time to talk some more, but with Jolene's heavy work schedule, they haven't been able to coordinate a date and time.

Tossing her bag down on a chair, Fawn asked, "What can I do to help?"

Gemma handed Fawn a bucket of ice filled with bottles of beer. "Take this to the guys outside, will ya? And make sure my old man doesn't get any."

"Sure." _Why not? Let's set women's lib even further back, shall we,_ Fawn thought wryly.

"I don't think Dad's gonna go for that." Jolene advised.

"Oh, he will." Gemma chuckled bawdily. "He got enough treats last night to do exactly what I tell him to."

Picking up the bucket, Fawn made eye contact with Jolene and nodded at Gemma's back. "She's in a pretty good mood."

Jolene grinned as she placed a hand on a curvy hip in tight leggings. "Yeah, and we all have you to thank for it. Gem's needed a new look for a while and all the well-deserved compliments have her walking on sunshine and rainbows. So, on behalf of all the old ladies, you have our eternal gratitude. It has actually been a reasonably pleasant afternoon and after today, I think you'll be getting a ton of new business down at the salon."

"That's definitely a win-win all around. Glad I could do my part." Fawn felt like she towered over Jolene despite the four-inch heels the young mother was rocking.

 _I bet a guy like Opie likes his women short and cute_ , Fawn thought a little enviously. _Just like his croweater girlfriend, only not that cute._

Exiting through the backdoor, Fawn took in the large backyard filled with several groups of patches scattered around, with quite a number of SAMCRO children running throughout. She headed towards the group of patches sitting on the patio furniture.

"Hey, hurry up with them beers, Fawnzy. We're thirsty." Tig hollered.

"You're always thirsty, brother." Clay Morrow was sitting in his favorite chair next to his son-in-law. Surrounding them was Bobby, Chibs, her father, and several other brothers.

Shouts of thanks were offered as Fawn set the bucket on the table and passed the beers around, bypassing Clay and Tig.

"What the fuck, Fawnzy?" Tig complained. "You're gonna deny me one lousy beer?"

Fawn gave him a long look and suddenly relented. Seeing as they were in the company of his beloved Club, she didn't want to be accused of emasculating him in front of them all, but she still needed to get her point across that she was keeping an eye on him. "Just one. I see you with another and you'll be eating nothing but tofu for the foreseeable future." She murmured in his ear.

"Hey, what about me?" Clay protested.

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, but none for you."

"You could slip me one on the sly." He insisted, casting an eye towards his house clearly on the lookout for his old lady.

Fawn shook her head. "Nuh uh. Gemma would kill us both with the same bottle."

Shouts of laughter and good-natured ribbing aimed at Clay followed.

"Nah, you don't have to worry about that now," Clay smiled, his blue eyes twinkling merrily with a huge shit-eating grin on his face. "After that new hairdo you gave her, Mama Bear's been in quite the loving mood, making Papa Bear a very happy man. I've been reaping all the fuckin' benefits since I got back from the after-Church party on Friday. My girl is hotter than ever."

"Jesus Christ, Clay. Really?" Jax complained. "I'd prefer if you kept that shit on the down low."

"Yeah, well, I can understand that. No sense torturing you with your mother's sex life. Not when you'll have a whole new set of worries of your own soon enough with my granddaughter in a few years. After the shit you put me through with baby girl, you deserve it. Like they say, payback is a sweet little bitch." Clay gave his son-in-law a wide grin as he watched Jax eye his young daughter playing with a group of the younger boys.

 _It's going to be a long, long time before I have to worry about that shit_ , Jax tried consoling himself as he lit up a cigarette. _A long fuckin' time_.

Suddenly a voice came from behind Fawn. "Can I _please_ have one of those?"

Fawn sighed dramatically. Picking up the last beer in the bucket, she turned around to face the patch she had deliberately been ignoring. Behind her Opie Winston was sitting in one of the patio chairs. Only he wasn't alone.

Perched on the armrest with an arm around his shoulders was a beautiful young girl. Opie reached for the beer. "Thanks. Oh, by the way, I don't think you've ever met my daughter, Kenny's twin. Fawn, this Ellie. Ellie, this is Tig's daughter Fawn."

As Fawn looked down into the very familiar and suddenly panicked blue-green eyes of the young girl she had rescued in Stockton only two days before, Fawn sighed.

_Oh, shit on me now!_


	11. Hot in Charming

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Fawn had a really bad fuckin' headache. It had pretty much started the moment she laid eyes on Ellie Winston, a dead ringer for the girl she rescued in the strip mall parking lot just a couple of days ago.

 _15,000 frickin' people in Charming and she had to be Opie's kid_!

Any plan to actually enjoy the Sunday dinner gathering was pretty much dead in the water for Fawn after making that discovery. Sitting at one of several large picnic tables, sandwiched between Bobby and Tiki, as platters of food and pitchers of beer and soda were being passed around amidst loud conversation and laughter, Fawn was probably the quietest person at the table. Aside from Ellie.

Fawn covertly watched as the young girl picked at her food while the tall mountain of a teenager that was her twin brother scarfed down everything in sight. Fawn couldn't really blame Ellie for not having an appetite, even with all of the delicious food that was up for grabs. The poor thing probably thought that all hell was about to break loose on her ass at any given moment.

Fawn took another bite of the tasty and well-seasoned fried chicken Jolene had informed her was free-range as she considered her situation.

 _To tell or not to tell_ , Fawn contemplated. _Actually, to rat or not to rat?_ That was the question for which there was no clear cut answer. _Damn it!_

At the bus depot, although she had been tempted to stick around after dropping Ellie off, Fawn had determined that the girl was entitled to her privacy.

 _But I didn't know who she was. Then. Does it really matter that I know now_? Fawn reasoned.

Thinking back to their conversation as they drove back to Charming, she realized that it did. Ellie had been cutting class, smoking pot, and drinking with a young man of questionable character. Actually, there was no question about Chip. He was indeed a predatory creep. Ellie had all but confessed that the shit she was personally dealing with went a long way in explaining her experimenting with mood altering substances. Now knowing exactly who she was, Fawn felt her heart stirring with compassion as she realized that Ellie was probably still dealing with the loss of her mother.

Fawn could only imagine that losing a parent so tragically had to be difficult at any age, but having lost her mother just as she was on the verge of womanhood must make for a sad and confusing time for Ellie. As a single parent, raising two teenagers alone under those circumstances must be equally as hard for Opie. He didn't deserve getting blindsided later on down the road by problems he hadn't seen coming. During the course of the afternoon, it was becoming clear to Fawn just how much Opie loved his kids. As she watched the three of them interact, Fawn would find herself smiling, fascinated by the softer, gentler side of the outlaw biker.

Tumbling the muddled situation around her head during dinner had pretty much killed her appetite. Deciding to table any further contemplation until she could mull it over at home, Fawn headed inside to make use of the bathroom. As she exited the powder room, she found Ellie Winston standing in the hallway obviously waiting for her.

Crossing her arms under her chest, Fawn eyed the girl with a narrowed gaze. "Well, this is something of a surprise."

"Umm, yeah." Ellie replied hesitantly. "I thought maybe we should talk."

"Sure." Fawn sighed. "Why not?" _Let's add a bout of indigestion to my already massive headache, shall we?_

With the raucous gathering still going on in the backyard, Ellie led the way into the currently unoccupied Morrow living room. Sitting down in one of the leather armchairs, Ellie folded her hands in her lap as Fawn sat down on the sofa and crossed her legs.

"So, I'm curious. Did you know who I was back in the parking lot?" Fawn started when it looked like the girl had suddenly gone mute.

Ellie looked into her eyes. "No. I mean, not at first. Not until you told Amy your name and where you worked."

Fawn nodded. "I take it that you not acknowledging that we've met before means you haven't told your Dad about what happened on Friday."

"No," Ellie replied quietly, but quickly rushed on. "I _know_ you said I should tell someone, but I'm not planning on ever seeing Chip again, so I figured there was no need to upset my Dad."

"Ellie, I think we both know that Chip, although a giant douche bag and a problem, is not _the problem_ we talked about you discussing with your Dad."

Ellie lowered her head. "I know, but I can't. Not yet."

"Oh sweetie," Fawn covered her face with her hands before pushing a few loose tendrils behind her ears. "This creates a moral dilemma for me. I want nothing more than to help you through this, but knowing who you are and _who_ your father is, I can't pretend that we never met before. At the very least, he should know that his underage daughter was cutting school and being forced into a car in a Stockton parking lot against her will."

Ellie was shaking her head frantically. "Please don't. I promise, I'm never seeing Chip again."

Fawn sighed. "Has the asshole tried contacting you?"

"Yeah," Ellie replied reluctantly. "But it was only to give me my bag back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. He's called me at least three times to apologize, but I let it go straight to voice-mail. I promise. Can we just pretend it never happened?" She pleaded.

"Okay," Fawn started and Ellie's shoulders visibly slumped with relief. "Hold on now, don't get too excited. Let's say for arguments sake that you never see Chip again, does that mean you're done with cutting class and getting high because Ellie, that's my real concern. Chip might be history, but baby girl, the world is full of people just like him. Sick and twisted individuals looking to take advantage of the young and inexperienced. You continue partying and drinking, you might fall victim to somebody worse than Chip and that's what I want to protect you from and I know without a doubt that's what your Dad would want to protect you from as well. I'm sure he'll be pissed finding out that you fell in with that little shit, but if you're hurting, going to him now is gonna count for something in his mind. I can tell that he loves you very much. You're his little girl."

"I know and I love him too. That's why I can't tell him. He'll do something crazy, I just know it."

"Shit, Ellie. You're not giving me much choice," Fawn lamented. "So I can't give you a choice either. One thing I've learned during my time here in Charming is that no one likes a rat, but if you won't come clean to your father, I may have to."

"Oh, God, no. Please don't." Ellie nearly begged.

"Then throw me a bone here 'cause I don't see an easy way out of this for either of us."

Ellie moistened her suddenly dry lips. "I don't see what the big deal is, Fawn. I know Kenny smokes weed, my Dad, too. _Everyone_ I know does."

"I don't." Fawn reminded her. "Besides, didn't we discuss the difference between those that do it as part of having a good time and those that do it to escape? If I remember correctly, you and I fall in the same category."

Ellie sat quietly for a long time, her eyes downcast. "I just don't want my Dad to blame himself." She said, her voice choking with tears that were falling one by one onto her hands resting in her lap.

Fawn didn't know what to say. She had no idea what was going on with Opie and his kids. The one thing she did know from experience, however, was that having Tig in her life before her fall from grace would have made all the difference in the world.

"I don't know if it'll make a difference," Fawn started, knowing she was setting herself up for some major blow back. "But, if you want, we could probably talk to your dad together."

Ellie suddenly looked up at Fawn, her eyes moist. "You'd do that for me?"

"If it'll get you to talk to him, if it'll make it easier for you, absolutely." She replied.

 _How in the hell do I get my ass into these situations_?

The simple answer was Fawn knew she couldn't turn her back on Ellie now any more than she could have in the parking lot of Beauty World, especially since the relief on the young woman's face was clearly evident.

Unfortunately, it was short lived.

"Let's get this over with then." Fawn made to get up but Ellie shook her head frantically.

"Not here! Not now!" The girl was near panicking.

 _She ha_ _s_ _a point_ , Fawn conceded. It was probably in poor taste for her to raise a shit storm during her first SAMCRO family dinner. But Fawn was determined to pin the girl down.

"If not now, when?" She asked. "It has to be soon, Ellie."

The girl practically bent over and moaned. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"I suggest you contain you shit. Nothing screams like something's up than a young girl tossing her cookies for no apparent reason." Fawn advised. "Tell you what. I'll give you a couple of days to get your shit together, get used to the idea that talking to your dad _is_ going to happen, and on Wednesday, we'll bite the bullet and tell him together."

Fawn saw the tension leave Ellie immediately. "That's good." The young girl was nodding excitedly, resembling a bobblehead doll. "That's very, very good. I like that plan. I like that plan a _whole lot_."

"Personally, I think you've waited long enough. Another three days just makes the likelihood of your dad finding out on his own all the more possible."

"No, no, it'll be fine. There's _no way_ for Dad to find out before then." Ellie replied confidently.

Fawn nodded in reluctant agreement. "Okay, Wednesday it is. Look, I don't really see a huge problem. I'm sure your dad will appreciate you coming to him with your problems and you've obviously learned your lesson. Cutting class? Every kid does that shit. The weed? Like you said, everybody does it, but you are his little girl. I'd be prepared to take my lumps on that score, and the drinking as well, if I were you. He prolly won't like it, but he'll simmer down once he realizes it's all over and you're safe."

Unfortunately, Fawn didn't know just how wrong she was.

* * *

"Aw, hell. That doesn't look too good." Tiki commented as he folded his arms across his chest.

"No shit."

It was a relatively quiet Monday afternoon on the T-M lot. While a couple of the mechanics were working in the bays, the rest were on break, except for Tiki, who Chibs had shoved in the direction of the car just pulling onto the lot.

"Go an' see what he wants, arsehole." Despite the fact that he had earned his patch nearly three years ago, as the youngest member of SAMCRO, Tiki still got a lot of the shit work to do.

Tiki crouched down at the back of the sky blue convertible to check out the damage, which was considerable. "We could probably get this done in a couple of days, but we need to get the replacements." He advised. "This is brand new. Why didn't you take it back to the dealer? There's a BMW dealership in Modesto. They could easily replace these for you."

The young man rubbed his chin. "Yeah, I know, but it's my father's dealership. I'd like to keep this shit off his radar, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. Been there." Tiki squatted again. "How did it happen?"

"Man, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Yeah? Try me."

"Well, I was in Stockton and—" The young man trailed off as he smacked his lips in appreciation of the dark-haired woman getting out of the driver's side of the Mustang that had just pulled into the lot. "Now that's what I call a nice piece of trim. She's smokin'."

"Uh, huh," Tiki said noncommittally as he continued his examination of the damage.

Suddenly, the boy's voice changed. "What the fuck?! The little bitch with her is responsible for my car getting beat to shit!"

Tiki looked up to see the Preppy's perfectly tanned golden skin suddenly break out in angry red blotches. Not focusing on said "bitch," Tiki tried not to laugh in the boy's face. "A woman did this to your cage?"

"Some red-headed fuckin' Amazon took a tire iron to my car." The boy replied angrily.

"What the fuck did you do, man?" Tiki laughed as he looked up just in time to see the panicked face of Ellie Winston standing next to Jolene Teller. "What the _fuck_ did you do?" Tiki growled as he straightened up.

Not paying much attention to the suddenly unfriendly tone behind the mechanic's comment, Charles "Chip" Preston Jr., continued ranting. "That's the little bitch I was dating. Stupid little cunt thought it was cute holding out on me for four fuckin' weeks. Refused to give me any pussy, but I was gonna make shit happen until that psycho bitch with the tire iron showed up and—"

He never finished the sentence.

Chip suddenly found him self lying on ground, a river of blood flowing out of his broken nose.

It was Ellie's shrill screams that brought Opie out of the Clubhouse at a dead run, the sight in front of him nearly stopping him in his tracks. Jolene had her arms wrapped around his little girl as Tiki Munson beat the crap out of some young preppy teenager. Running to the scene along with several other brothers, including Chibs and Juice, Opie struggled to stop Tiki. Tiki had dragged the hapless boy onto his feet and had him pinned against the car as he beat him senseless.

"Stop it, bro! What the fuck is going on?!" Opie thundered. He wasn't sure how many more blows the young man could take. He already looked semi-conscious.

"Fuckin' prick!" Tiki roared as Opie pushed him back. " _Make shit happen_?! What the fuck does that even mean, huh?! Were you gonna rape her, asshole?!"

Opie grabbed Tiki by the front of his T-M work shirt and shook him. The young biker, suddenly rattled out of his thirst for blood, looked Opie in the eyes. "What the fuck are you talking about, brother?"

Wiping sweat off his brow as he swept his mop of chin-length dark hair back, Tiki tried catching his breath. "Ellie. That piece of shit tried forcing himself on Ellie."

The shock in Opie's deep green eyes suddenly morphed into blind rage. Shoving his brother away, he turned to face the bleeding teenager who had made the mistake of regaining consciousness and had staggered onto his loafered-feet.

Grabbing him away from Chibs by the collar of his bloody shirt, Opie hauled back and knocked Chip Preston the fuck out.

* * *

Opie tore down Main Street like a man possessed.

_I can't believe she didn't tell me shit!_

Opie tightened his grip on the handlebars of his bike, wincing slightly at the stinging pain from the two split knuckles on his right hand. Although he had knocked out the little prick who had tried to molest his daughter with the first punch, Opie had continued his assault on the unconscious boy. It had taken Tiki, Chibs, Juice _and_ Bobby to pull him off the little shit.

Once in the Main Room of the Clubhouse, Opie's anger continued to blaze as he listened to Ellie's stammered account of what happened in Stockton. Pacing back and forth, Opie couldn't decide who he was more pissed at: his daughter for being foolhardy and reckless; the privileged bastard who thought Daddy's money allowed him to take advantage of young girls; or the one adult involved in the situation who chose unwisely to keep quiet about the danger Ellie had been in.

While Chibs carted Chip off to one of the dorms to try and do some damage control, Ellie had tried to convince her father that Fawn was not to blame for any of what had happened, in Stockton or on the lot. In fact, Fawn Trager had come to her rescue.

"She got you out of a jam? Great, but she still had a responsibility to tell me what the fuck had happened." Opie said angrily as he loomed over his daughter.

"She didn't know who I was. I purposely didn't tell her." Ellie insisted. "She only figured it out when you introduced us at dinner yesterday."

"She sure as shit should have said something then!" Her father shot back.

Ellie shook her head. She was confused. Instead of raging at her for cutting school and hanging out with a dirt bag like Chip, her father was hell-bent on being angry at Fawn, the one person determined to keep her from becoming just another statistic. "Fawn wanted to, but _I_ wouldn't let her, Dad. I didn't want to spoil Sunday dinner. She knew, though, that it was important for me to talk to you and even offered to be there with me when I finally did. I talked her into putting it off for a few more days. I had no idea that Chip would show up here."

"What fuckin' sense does it make waiting to tell me this shit?" Her father demanded. "Fawn was being stupid and irresponsible."

And suddenly in full view of her father, her Aunt Jolene and a Clubhouse full of his brothers, Ellie Winston completely lost her shit.

"Stop blaming Fawn! I was the one afraid to tell you! I was afraid you'd go off the rails and beat Chip to a bloody pulp! Go figure, right?!" Ellie yelled. "I didn't want you getting arrested and ending up in prison again! You have no business going to jail, Dad! Not when you're the _only_ parent me and Kenny have left!" With that painful admission, Ellie had stormed out as she cried bitterly, the echo of the door to her father's dorm slamming in her wake.

The stunned silence in the Clubhouse was stifling until Jolene spoke up. "I know you're angry, Ope, and you have every right to be, but Ellie has a point. You're directing your anger at the wrong target. Ellie's ultimately responsible for her own behavior and I think Fawn was right in not telling you and trying to get Ellie to come clean to you herself. It's what I would have done." She tried assuring her near-lifelong friend she loved like a big brother. "It's obvious Ellie feels comfortable with Fawn, so maybe, after everyone calms down, you should all sit down and have that talk they were planning on anyway. From what I understand, Fawn knows what she's talking about. Maybe if you gave her chance, she might help you get through to your daughter."

Opie looked down at Jolene. He knew she was right. Every fuckin' word that had ever come out of his little PITA's mouth usually was, especially when it came to shit regarding his kids. But this time it involved Fawn Trager and he refused to acknowledge any possible truths where that woman was concerned.

Opie shook his head. "Fawn had NO RIGHT keeping this from me," He stormed towards the Clubhouse entrance. "And I'm gonna fuckin' tell her so to her face."

* * *

"So what do you think, Mrs. Silverbaum?" Fawn said as she spun the chair around.

"Oh, my dear Fawn," The older woman tittered as she leaned forward to get a closer look. "You do have a fine skill with those scissors." She exclaimed happily as she turned her head first one way and then the other to get the full effect of her perfectly cut and styled silver curls. "I feel and look like I'm 50 again!"

"Looking good enough to eat is a great confidence booster for a woman and you look fabulous." Fawn smiled at the almost giddy woman.

"Oh wow! That sure is a nice job." Joanie called out. "You betta watch out, Leonie. Harvey's gonna take one look at you and jump you good and proper. You better make sure he takes his back medication first!" She crowed as everyone laughed.

Standing up, the 60-plus woman discreetly put a nice-sized tip in the pocket of Fawn's coverall. "Girls, I look so good I think we might be able to make good use of that Viagra sitting in the medicine cabinet gathering dust. It's been a while." The entire shop hooted with laughter.

Gina's was surprisingly packed for a Monday afternoon. Every stylist's chair was occupied and with several walk-ins waiting in the reception area to be fitted in, the shop was lively with activity. Walking her satisfied client to reception to settle the bill, Fawn was just about to take one of the walk-ins back to her station when she heard the distinctive sound of a motorcycle riding down Main Street.

Recognizing the distinctive pipes, Fawn's heart gave a shaky leap in her chest as she looked out one of the shop's wide windows and saw Opie Winston pull to a stop right out front.

"My, oh my," Leonie murmured over her shoulder. "What a good-looking strapping young man."

Mary Ellen snorted. "Leonie, you better leave that one alone. Don't wanna make Harvey jealous."

"Sweetie, how does that old saying go? There might be snow on the roof, but there sure is a fire in the furnace. And with a furnace as big as mine, there is plenty of fire to go around." She replied to howls of laughter.

"Listen to you talking trash," Fawn tried keeping her laughter under control, but found it fading fast as she noted the ever-present-as-of-late black beanie on Opie's head. It was the angry set of the outlaw biker's shoulders, however, along with the pissed off look on his face and large gloved hands clenched into fists that had Fawn swallowing the giant lump in her throat. Opie yanked the shop's front door open and Fawn realized that the shit was about the hit the fan as he headed in her direction.

Frantically searching her mind to figure out what she had done now to set off the big beefy biker, it finally hit her.

_Ellie. Oh shit! I'm dead._

Not bothering to offer a greeting or make polite conversation, Fawn found herself suddenly confronted with 250 muscled-pounds of hot biker. "I need to fuckin' talk to you," Opie said in a low growl. "Right. Now."

With all of the happy female chatter coming to an abrupt stop with that announcement, Fawn found herself the center of attention.

And she didn't like it one bit.

Cursing the fact that she was wearing a pair of chic silver flip flops that showed off the pedicure she had given herself the night before with teal and silver crackle nail polish, Fawn desperately missed the height her 4-inch Jimmy Choo boots would have given her. Now having to crane her neck just to meet the crabby biker eye-to-throat, Fawn grimaced but refused to lose ground.

"I'm sorry, but do you have an appointment?" She replied coolly.

"Little Girl, you do not want to play games with me right now."

"I'm not playing. I'm working," Fawn retorted as she folded her arms under her chest. "So if whatever you want to talk to me about has nothing to do with giving you a mani-pedi or some blond highlights, it'll have to wait."

"Bullshit." Opie folded his arms across his chest. "We're gonna have a talk right now. Whether it's in here or outside is totally up to you."

Although she was 110% positive he was here about Ellie, Fawn still bristled at the sheer audacity of the man, coming to her place of business and attempting to cause a scene. "I get off of work at six. We can talk then." Fawn replied. Turning away, she suddenly felt a powerful grip clamp down on her upper arm like a vise as Opie summarily dragged her to the front door.

"If you ladies will please excuse us for a moment," Opie said tersely, his eyes never leaving the red-head in front of him. "Fawn will be back soon."

"Hey! Get your mitts off me!" Fawn complained. Standing her ground was not an option as her flip flops slid across the polished tile floor towards the front door.

"That was so fuckin' hot!" Joanie cried gleefully as she watched her co-worker being yanked outside. "Only thing hotter would have been throwing her over his shoulder!"

"That certainly looked like a possibility." Mary Ellen cackled.

"I don't know. He looked kinda pissed." Lexie murmured anxiously as she bit her lip. "Maybe we should call the Sheriff."

"Oh, to hell with that!" Gina exclaimed as she ran to the front of the shop to peer through the blinds in order to watch the arguing couple. "Fawn's just fine. Besides, there was something slightly more than just anger flashing in those eyes when he was looking at Fawn. Something tells me this shit right here is gonna be too good to miss."

Suddenly, the front of the shop was crowded as stylists and clients alike rushed to find a spot good enough to watch the show.

All the mortification of being dragged about like a rag doll left Fawn the moment they stepped outside as her fiery temper finally kicked in. Paying no attention to the gawkers in the shop or the pedestrian traffic on either side of Main Street, Fawn jerked her arm out of his grasp and turned on the VP, letting him have it with both barrels.

"Are you INSANE?! What is your fuckin' problem?" She screeched.

"My problem is you!" Opie yelled right back. "Do you want to tell me why the HELL you didn't come to me about my daughter?!"

Fawn crossed her arms under her heaving chest, practically craning her neck as she glared up at him. It was quickly dawning on her that, aside from the ginormous fit he was having, she was more angry at herself than she was at Opie. She needed to learn to listen to her gut, and her gut had told her that going to Opie right away would have been the wisest move.

Still, he was being an ass and going out of his way to embarrass her in front of the people she worked with, so she wasn't about to concede to him just yet.

"Maybe because it wasn't my place to rat her ass out." She replied indignantly, even though she had already come to the conclusion the day before that it had been her responsibility to do just that.

"You were the only thing standing between her safety and my daughter getting raped and you didn't think that shit was important enough for me to know?" Opie was incredulous.

Fawn tried to calm herself as she realized that, underneath all his anger, she could hear the fear and pain in his voice. Wincing, she could have kicked herself for deciding to keep Ellie's secret for a few more days.

"Of course I thought it was important for you to know." Fawn started in a somewhat calmer voice. "I also knew that it should have been Ellie telling you. Telling you when she was emotionally ready would have opened her up to talking to you about what's really clawing away at her. Your daughter's in a lot of pain—"

"That's right," Opie cut in. " _My_ daughter. As her father you shouldn't have kept it from me."

"The fact that you're standing here shouting at my ass in the middle of Main Street tells me that she did fess up to you, which is what I told her she needed to do."

"Oh, I found out alright, but it wasn't voluntary. That piece of shit showed up at the garage to get his Beamer fixed before his Daddy found out when Ellie showed up with Jolene!" Opie thundered.

Fawn's jaw dropped. "That little fucker came to the lot? That piece of shit doesn't know how lucky he is!" She raged as she stalked back and forth in anger. "Had I been there, I wouldn't have bothered with his car this time and would've put my tire iron upside his head instead!"

Seeing her anger redirected at another target had a partially calming effect on Opie as he saw the obvious disgust on her face and could hear it in her voice. "He wasn't that lucky. Tiki beat the shit out of him, and I pretty much finished the job."

Fawn's relaxed her tense shoulders and unclenched her fists. "Good. I hope you gave him the beating his father obviously never did." She said as ran her hands through her hair. "Look, I'm sorry about how this went down. I'm just glad I was there for Ellie. It's pretty obvious that she's dealing with a lot of emotional shit right now—" She started calmly.

"And you don't think I fuckin' know that?" Opie retorted, once again put off that a complete stranger was all but telling him what a shitty father he was.

"I have no idea what you know or don't know about your daughter, but if I were you, I wouldn't waste any more time ripping me a new asshole. I'd go sit down with her and try to figure out what the hell's wrong. All this shit's just a cry for help, and believe me I know. You don't want her ending up jacked up and strung out like me because my parents weren't around when I needed them."

Opie was back to glaring at her. "So, you're saying I'm a bad father?" He thundered.

To Opie's utter shock, Fawn let loose with a little scream to go along with the punch she landed on his shoulder, which barely registered as anything but a nuisance. "Arrrgh! You are such an asshole! Will you please stop putting shit in my mouth I didn't say?!"

Watching as she started pacing back and forth again on the sidewalk, Opie found himself stomping towards her.

"Okay, let me put something _else_ in your mouth instead!" He growled. Grabbing Fawn her by the arms, Opie yanked the suddenly squealing woman up against the length of his body before he slammed a pair of firm lips down on hers.

"Holy shit!" Lexie gasped as she watched her new co-worker being mauled on the sidewalk in broad daylight.

"Hot damn!" Replied a breathy blond in her twenties and huge pink rollers. "It's getting fuckin' hot in here!"

And Fawn would agree.

Struggling at first with the shock of the outlaw biker's lips on hers, Fawn was still pissed enough to try to knee him in the groin. But as the hot-tempered biker continued his assault on her mouth, her inner voice was doing internal back flips.

_Finally! And don't you DARE mess this up for me!_

Listening to her inner voice for once, Fawn found herself sinking into the warmth of Opie's kiss, her arms slowly creeping up to wrap around his neck. Coming into contact with the horrible beanie on his head, Fawn yanked it off and tossed it over her shoulder. Undoing the leather strip that bound his hair into a ponytail, Fawn sunk her hands deep into that glorious mass of long, thick and soft hair.

 _Oh. My. God!_ Fawn thought as she literally felt her toes curling. _This man sure knows how to kiss._ _This is fuckin' awesome!_

Fawn was not the only one caught up in the kiss that rocked the world.

Opie was drowning. At least that's what it felt like to him. One minute, he had been tearing a strip off of the woman that had interfered with his family and the next, he was locked in a passionate embrace and drinking her in like a thirsty man draining a well dry. It was an assault on his senses, every nerve-ending vibrating as they lost themselves in lips, teeth, and tongues.

All too aware that Fawn was pressed close against his body, Opie couldn't escape the need to get closer. Letting his hands roam to the part of her anatomy that had been calling his name from the first moment they met, Opie grabbed onto that supremely fine ass and pulled her closer still.

Fawn moaned, feeling the biker's huge hands running free and loose all over her posterior. Before she knew what was happening, her legs had already made the decision for her as her feet pushed up against the concrete and, with Opie's help, she made the jump that allowed her to firmly wrap her legs around his waist.

Opie continued squeezing and kneading the supple cheeks through her leggings, her legs wrapped around him in a vise, as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth and doing its best to bury itself in the back of Fawn's throat. His dick was as hard as a rock and begging for mercy. With a groan, Opie realized that if he didn't stop now, he and Fawn would need the Club to bail them out after getting arrested for public indecency.

Finally untangling her legs from around his waist and setting her down on her feet, Opie reluctantly pulled away. Fawn whimpered as their lips made a loud wet sucking sound as they came apart, unsure if she had actually managed to get her feet back on solid ground. Looking up at the similarly dazed and aroused man, Fawn licked her kiss-swollen lips.

It was almost poor Opie's undoing as he nearly reached for her again.

"This ain't over." He managed to say with some semblance of dignity.

Turning around, and cursing the ache of satisfaction denied already settling into his balls, Opie got on his bike and pulled away, tires burning rubber.

Fawn raised a hand to touch her lips. "Jesus Christ! I sure hope not."

Turning around to lean her back up against the shop door, Gina used her hands to try and bring a cooling breeze to her face as she met the eyes of her similarly dazed clients and employees. "I don't know about y'all," She said breathily. "But after that, I could sure use a cigarette."

* * *

Sitting on the Clubhouse roof, Opie looked more like a stone statute of a gargoyle than a hot angry biker.

Having screeched onto the lot and not even bothering to park his ride, the pissed-off outlaw angrily stomped through the Clubhouse, past his grim-faced brothers and the dorms, towards the end of the hall and the ladder that would take him to the one place quiet enough for him to think.

And the SAMCRO VP had a lot of thinking to do. Pulling out a pack of smokes, Opie hesitated.

 _This shit ain't gonna cut it_ , he thought.

Digging through the inside pocket of his kutte for the one lone joint he had, Opie used his favorite sterling silver Reaper Zippo lighter—a favor from his best friends' wedding—to light up. Taking a couple of hits, Opie let out a sigh and a trail of smoke as he ran a hand through his tangled mop of hair wondering where the hell his favorite hat went.

 _Shit, I think Fawn threw it away_ , he lamented _._

Thinking about the hot-blooded and fiery woman, Opie cursed a blue streak under his breath. Between her and Ellie, Opie didn't know which one he wanted to throttle first.

 _Okay, cut the bullshit_ , Opie scolded himself _._ Truth was, there was only one way he wanted Fawn and that was in his bed. _It would definitely take my mind off the fact that I want to beat my daughter_.

He could still feel the sweet sting of Fawn's teeth biting into his lips as they kissed each other as if the world were coming to an end. Shaking his head, Opie couldn't explain to himself how a screaming match in the middle of Main Street had quickly spiraled out of control and into a kiss that had the potential of turning his life upside down. Fawn Trager was trouble he had been trying to avoid. Now, Opie couldn't see how he could keep himself from going back for more.

And he hated himself because he knew he shouldn't want to.

Fawn may be beautiful, sexy and passionate, but the fact remained that she had interfered with his family. It was hard enough being a single father to a teenage girl without having adults who should know better keeping secrets from him. But in spite of how angry he was about Fawn's lack of foresight in coming to him about the incident in Stockton, she had made a point that hit close to home. He had no fuckin' clue what was going on with his kid and, even worse, had no idea what to do about it.

Now, finally somewhat calm, Opie allowed himself to replay the heated words Ellie had shouted at him before storming off. Ultimately, she had been afraid of confiding in him because she knew he'd lose his shit. She didn't want him going to prison again and after the horror of being in foster care, he couldn't say he blamed her. Opie had made the choice to live the Life. Donna and his kids had not, yet they had been the ones to suffer the most because of it.

After Kenny and Ellie had been ripped away from him and placed in foster care, Opie had promised them that he would never let something like that happen again. He had made arrangements for a living will with Ally Lowen, giving Jax and Jolene custody of his underage children if something were to happen to him, including incarceration. Apparently, however, what his daughter needed or wanted was not assurance that she and her brother would not be ripped away from Opie, but that Opie would stick around.

_You have no business going to jail, Dad! Not when you're the only parent me and Kenny have left!_

It was clear to him now that Ellie was still mourning her mother. The thought of losing him as well terrified her and, in order to cope, she had been acting out recklessly. The signs had been there all along. In the way she dressed, in the new crowd she associated with, in how secretive and withdrawn she had become. Opie had just been too wrapped up in his own grief and shit to notice. His young daughter had obviously been searching for something he had been unable to provide.

If Fawn hadn't been there for his daughter, he could very well be suffering a whole new type of grief.

Swiping away at his sudden and unexpected stream of bitter tears, Opie hadn't heard the muted footsteps until they were right next to them.

"Daddy?"

Turning his head, Opie met Ellie's solemn and troubled gaze as she faced him.

"Hey."

"Hey," Ellie moistened her lips. "Are you okay?"

Her father sighed. "No, not really." He patted the spot next to him and after a moment, she sat down.

"I had a long talk with Aunt Jo. I came out afterwards, but you were gone. Where did you go?"

"I went to see your 'guardian angel'." Opie replied gruffly.

Ellie's eyes widened in consternation. "Dad, please tell me you didn't yell at her." She implored. "None of this is Fawn's fault."

"Whose fault was it then, baby?" Opie turned his head to the side and looked Ellie in the eye.

"Mine. It was all mine, Dad." Ellie replied defiantly. "I alone made all the wrong choices that landed me in that Stockton parking lot. Fawn didn't know who I was, but she reached out to help me anyway. She didn't have to. She wasn't the only other person there. She did because she's a good person, Dad, and she really struggled with not telling you, but she wanted me to be the one to do it."

"So why didn't you?"

"I was ashamed of myself." Ellie replied. "If I told you about Chip and Stockton, I was gonna have to tell you about . . . other things, too."

"Like the fact that you get drunk and high on the regular now?" Opie asked a little heatedly.

"I'm sorry, Dad." Ellie looked down, her eyes falling on the tip of her flats.

Opie shook his head, using a large hand to wipe a trail of sweat from his brow. "Elle, I can't be a hypocrite and try to sugarcoat reality for your sake. You're old enough to know the shit that goes on around here. The drinking, the weed and . . . other things, too." Opie's hesitation prompted a slight chuckle from Ellie. "But you're a bright girl and you have to be smart about the shit you do and don't do. Be smart about the people you trust."

"I can trust Fawn—" She started indignantly.

Opie shook his head with a slight smirk on his face. "I wasn't talking about Fawn."

"Good," Ellie smiled. "Because I like her."

Opie pinched the bridge of his nose. _And apparently, I like kissing her_.

After a long moment of silence, Ellie finally spoke up. "Are we good, Dad?"

"I don't know, Ellie." Opie suddenly looked forlorn. "Are we? I mean, are you good because it's very important to me that you are. You're everything to me. I don't think I could take it if something happened to you."

"I will be, Daddy." Ellie replied, using the back of her hand to swipe away her sudden tears. "I already cut ties with Chip and his group of friends. I don't need another close call to convince me how stupid I was being."

Throwing a burly arm around Ellie's slight shoulders, Opie pulled her into a tight embrace. "I love you. I love you more than anything in this world." Opie's voice was muffled but his feelings clear.

"I know, Daddy," Ellie's voice was small and trembling. "I love you, too."

Unexpectedly, they heard someone clear their throat and turned to see half of Chibs' body poking out through the roof, the rest of him perched on the stairs leading from the Clubhouse. "Sorry brutha," The Acting SAA started. "But we need to take care of the asshole downstairs. I patched up the worst of it, but ya need to figger wha' ya want done wit him, now."

"Daddy?" Ellie said softly. "Please just let him go. I don't want you to get arrested."

Opie stood up, pulling Ellie along with him. Letting Chip go was the one thing Opie couldn't do, unless he _did_ want to get arrested. "Don't you worry about it, honey. The Club's gonna take care of this and it won't blow back on me. Now, I want you to go downstairs and ask your Aunt Jo to take you home to Grand. I'll be home as soon as I can."

"You promise?" Ellie asked cautiously.

Opie grinned. Pulling on her ponytail, he kissed the top of her head. "I promise."

* * *

It was dusk as the Club's cargo van, a sky blue convertible and an entourage of six bikes pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of the BMW dealership off of I-18 in Modesto.

Parking their bikes in a line, Jax removed his helmet as he eyed his VP. "You sure this is how you want to handle this shit, Ope?"

"No, but I promised Ellie I would stay out of trouble. It's the best I can come up with, so let's get it done." He replied grimly. With Jax falling into step right behind him, Opie pulled open the door of the dealership and walked in.

Timing it perfectly, it was almost closing time and, except for a few stragglers milling about, the dealership was practically deserted. Despite the easy listening music that was being pumped throughout the facility and a somewhat boisterous salesman doing his best to convince his last customer of the day to go for the fully-loaded model of the year, Opie's boots made loud footfalls as he headed to what he assumed was the office of the principal owner.

"Can I help you, sugar?" Opie turned to see a sexy blond bombshell wearing a skin tight red suit with a plunging neckline. Accurately noting who he was by his attire, she smiled up at him. "You look way too hot to be interested in one of our little _cages_ , but maybe I can help you with something else?" She purred, dragging her little red claws across Opie's kutte.

"Maybe another time, _sugar_." Opie replied. "Right now, I'm looking for the owner. I got something that belongs to him, but it's probably best if we talk in private. Is he around?"

"The boss? Sure, he's in the back." She replied with a pout.

"Well, why don't you have him meet me outside 'cause I don't have all night. I'll be by that convertible out front." Opie nodded.

The blond, who hadn't taken her eyes off Opie from the moment she had laid them on him, glanced over to the glass walls that allowed an unobstructed view of the parking lot and gulped. "Oh shit! That's Chip Jr.'s car. What the fuck did that asswipe do now?" She muttered. "Ugh! I'll be right back."

Both bikers watched as the blond wriggled her way to the back of the dealership. "Sounds like Junior's something of a problem child." Jax commented.

"I'm counting on it." His VP replied.

* * *

"What's the meaning of this?" Charles Preston, Sr. hurried out of the dealership. Coming to a dead stop as he saw the six burly bikers standing in front of his son's car, his eyes widened first in terror and then in anger. "What the fuck happened to my son's car?!" The large, portly and balding man in his 50's thundered.

Opie crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh, this?" He nodded his head at the car, who along with the busted tail lights now had a shattered windshield and several large dents on both doors. "I'm afraid your son's car got into a little _accident_."

"Hell yeah, it did. What I want to know is how, where is my son and what do you have to do with this?" Chip Sr. blubbered.

"Your son is right here." Jax replied. "Chibs?"

Opening the back doors of the cargo van with a flourish, Charles Sr. let out a strangled gasp as Chibs and Half Sack dragged out a battered and bruised Chip Jr.

Flinging the boy at his father, the man was barely able to grab hold of him, finally propping him up against the hood of the Beamer. "Chip?! Chip, what the hell happened?!"

"Looks like he fell down." Opie drawled.

"Yeah," Tiki chimed in grimly. "We kept picking him up and he just kept falling down."

The boy moaned. "Dad, that's bullshit! I didn't do shit, I swear, and these assholes beat me up for no fuckin' reason." He said pitifully.

"I know who you people are," Charles Preston said angrily. "And you have made a big mistake targeting my son. I know people that can crush you. You're not going to get away with this. I am starting by pressing charges against you band of thugs."

Opie stalked over to the man getting into his face. "I don't think you will. Your son didn't fall down. _I_ beat the shit out of him. And he's lucky I didn't kill him. Your piece of shit progeny not only got my daughter high, but then tried taking her against her will to your house where he planned on forcing himself on her." Opie noted the man's face, seeing an apprehensive look dawn in his eyes.

"That's a lie, Dad." Chip pleaded. "She wanted it. It was her idea!"

"Shut up, Chip!" His father hollered at him, his face red.

Opie clenched his gloved fists at his side. _Maybe I should've just killed the little prick_.

Sensing his brother's agitation, Jax spoke up. "You don't seem all that surprised, do ya, Big Chip? As a matter of fact, you seem more pissed at Little Chip here, like maybe this isn't the first time he's done something like this."

"It isn't," Juice called out. "At least that's what his _sealed_ juvenile record says."

Chip Sr. sputtered. "Even if one existed, how could you possibly know what's on his record?"

Pulling Chip Jr.'s wallet out of his kutte, Opie tossed it onto the Beamer's front seat. "You'd be surprised by what a band of thugs can accomplish when they set their minds on something."

"I don't think even you and all the people you know could buy your son out of _third_ rape charge." Jax noted.

"So you see my dilemma," Opie started. "Your son's a predator and he made a huge mistake targeting my daughter. Fortunately for Chip, I made a promise to my little girl, so this is what we're going to do. Instead of me killing him, you're gonna keep your dickwad of a son and his circle of scumbag friends out of Charming. You don't and I will be the one to file charges against your son for assault. He comes anywhere near my daughter again, I'll kill him. Then I'm coming after you."

"And just like today," Jax drawled. "He won't show up alone 'cause we know people too."

"Dad?! You can't let them get away with this! They ain't got shit on me!" Chip was screeching.

"We got a couple of upstanding citizens who witnessed the whole thing go down in Stockton. And they're more than willing to testify." Tiki explained.

"I take it we understand each other." Opie said, a quiet edge to his voice.

"Dad—"

Whirling around, Chip Sr. yelled at his son. "Shut the fuck up!" Wiping the sudden beads of sweat from his brow, the man sighed. "I understand perfectly. Can you please just go?"

"Our pleasure." Opie replied. Pointing a gloved finger at Chip, Opie snarled. "I ever see you again, you'll wish I hadn't."

* * *

Closing the door to Ellie's bedroom, Opie first went to the kitchen to grab himself a beer before heading to the living room. Collapsing on the sofa, he stretched out his long legs to rest them on the coffee table, glad that this mother was out playing Cribbage. He'd had enough of the day's events and was in no mood to rehash them. It had been difficult enough bringing Kenny up to speed.

But despite everything that had gone down, the SAMCRO VP was feeling a bit calmer now that the sun had set and he had a moment to quietly reflect.

After returning to Charming, he and Jax had headed over to the Teller household where Ellie was waiting for him. It had felt good being able to reassure his daughter that everything was going to be okay. Kenny, however, had been quite upset that he had been kept out of the Chip loop, but seeing brother and sister together now, Opie was glad he had. Two Winston men on a rampage would have been too much for even the Club to handle.

Kenny, overly protective of his twin sister, was doing what he did best in situations like this. He'd wrap his arm around Ellie and hold her, reminding her that she wasn't alone in any of it. No matter what, they would always have each other. So Opie, feeling like a third wheel, had stepped out of the room, letting the Wonder Twins comfort each other, their connection so strong that neither bothered to speak in full sentences. They just knew.

Opie realized that dealing with Chip Preston was only the tip of the iceberg. He, Ellie, and even Kenny had shit that they were going to have to work out, individually and as a family. With Ellie now settled with her champion, Opie could finally attempt to come to terms with what had happened between him and Fawn Trager.

The Man of Mayhem tried not to squirm, refusing to acknowledge the sudden tightening of his jeans around the crotch area, as he thought about Fawn and her stunning assault on his senses. Usually reserved and a man of few words, unlike his best friend in the prime of his pussy-chasing days, Opie wasn't one to indulge in a lot of public displays of affection. He never had a problem showing his love for his old lady Donna in front of others, but for the most part, he saved it for when he actively pursued his wife all over their damn house.

But after she died, Opie found himself keeping a tight lid on his emotions once he started getting involved with women again. But no one—at least as far as he could recall in the three years since his wife died—had ever inspired a reaction in him like Tig's crazy kid.

Opie would readily admit that he had fantasized about the young woman. _A lot_. Hell, he wouldn't be a man if he didn't, but what he had actually experienced with her in a few brief moments on the streets of Charming was far more explosive than anything he could ever imagine.

Taking a long look at large wedding portrait sitting above the mantle, Opie winced.

 _I can't believe I did that shit, D_. It was a hard thing to say out loud, especially to his old lady.

Opie often spoke to Donna's picture when no one else was around. It would help him think through situations involving his kids or his mother and he could sometimes hear Donna's sage advice like a whisper in his heart. But this was something altogether different.

The feelings he was starting to experience again with the beautiful spitfire were a little unnerving. Only days after her arrival in town, Opie had pretty much made up his mind that he would eventually be hitting that and he had no problem with it, even with all of the bad history he had with her father. Especially if Fawn was interested—and, in his mind, the all-out bickering, subtle flirting, and soul-searing kiss they had shared meant that she was—so he wasn't about to give up now.

Having finally tasted those sweet lips, Opie was adamant about wanting to taste a hell of a lot more.

But having his daughter now in the mix was giving him pause. It was obvious that Ellie already had a strong connection with Fawn. She had been very vocal in defense of her new acquaintance and from what he had gathered from his heated discussion with Fawn, the feeling was evidently mutual.

Ever since the fiasco that was his relationship with Lyla Dean, Opie had made the concerted effort to keep his family life separate from his interaction with women. Since ending it with Lyla, the only women to set foot in his house have been his mother and Jolene. If Ellie were to continue to build a friendship with Fawn, which could benefit his daughter, getting involved with Tig's kid might not be a good thing after all.

 _Because in the end, my family comes first. Every time_.

* * *

" _So being on the receiving end of a mind-blowing lip lock with a huge and sexy biker wasn't the perfect ending to your day?" Tina said saucily. "Girl, you don't know how good you have it."_

Lying back on her bed, Fawn uncrossed her legs left bare by the short shorts she wore, which were perched against the wall as she rested her head against Rocco's side.

"Bitch, please! I'm sure it sounds great since you weren't the one being mauled." She groused.

 _Liar_! Her inner voice retorted. _Your toes are still curled and your underwear just this side of wet just thinking about it!_

Apparently Tina agreed with inner-Fawn.

" _Bullshit! I don't have to be in the same room as you to read the expression on your face. You're coming across loud and clear over the phone, sweetheart. That man set your pilot light ablaze. Question now is what the hell are you gonna do about it?"_

Fawn sighed. "Absolutely nothing." She could do very little to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "He's spitting mad at me."

" _Can't say I blame him."_

"Aw, come on! Not you, too. You're _my_ bestfriend. You're supposed to be on _my_ side." She whined.

" _Sorry, girl, but he's concerned about his daughter. A good father would be."_

"Fine, I can accept that. He should've just kept being mean and grumpy towards me all the while avoiding me like the plague. What the hell was the point of reminding why I LOVE being a woman in front of God and everybody at the fuckin' shop?!"

Fawn felt her skin heating up and knew that her face was probably as bright pink as it had been when she had reentered Gina's salon.

In no way, shape or form recovered from the hot biker's assault, Fawn had turned back to face the salon only to see practically everyone in the shop pressed up against the windows. There was no doubt left in her mind that not only had they heard every word of their argument, but had enjoyed a bird's eye view of the SAMCRO VP rocking her world. Not to mention her wanton response as she practically jumped him and wrapped her legs around him.

Fawn very rarely ever felt shame or embarrassed when she invariably shoved her own foot in her mouth, but it had taken everything she was worth to make herself walk back into the shop. Although everyone had run back to their respective chairs and stations by the time Fawn stepped inside, the elephant was clearly in the room and just waiting for that someone bold enough to mention the fire she and Opie had started on Main Street.

Joanie was the first to cut loose. "Girl, I don't know what you did, but if he comes back here again to dish more of that shit out, please sign me up as an accomplice!"

"Fuck yeah!" Snatching up the beanie that Fawn had retrieved from its perch on top of a parking meter, Gina used it to fan herself. "I think we need to frame this as a souvenir."

Trying to yank it out of her hands, Fawn missed as it was quickly tossed back and forth around the shop as she fumed at the injustice of it all.

After finally getting back Opie's beanie, it was open season and Fawn was ribbed within an inch of her life for the rest of the afternoon, which royally pissed her off. Lucky for her next walk-in, Fawn did some of her best work when she was fuming. The young woman was giddy as she left the salon with a perfect cascade of loose curls in a fantastic shade of red. After cleaning up her workstation, Fawn had called it a day and had gone for a long drive to cool herself off before heading back to her father's house.

Now, after sharing the events of the day, as well as all the events of her adventure in Stockton that had started the hot and steamy ball of wax in motion, Fawn was unsure of what to do about Ellie or her handsome but frustrating father.

Tina, on the other hand, was never short on ideas when it came to snagging a man. _"Girl, you've got that man on the line. You need to reel him in. You can't just leave the man hanging like that. Poor thing's probably rubbing one out as we speak thinking about you._ _What a shameful waste of an erection."_

"Oh my God! Do you even listen to yourself? Because you sure as shit don't listen to me." Fawn growled. "Opie Winston probably hates me or, at the very least, he's way too pissed off to waste his time on a woman he feels kept him in the dark about his own kid."

" _Sweetheart, it really fascinates me that someone as smart as you could be so damn stupid about men."_

"What the fuck, Tina? I ask again, whose side are you on?"

" _If that man was truly as pissed off at you as you say," Tina advised. "He wouldn't have laid that lip lock on you. He's yours and you don't even know it. Men only feel the need to brand what they consider theirs and girl, I'm quite happy to be the one to tell you, you've been officially pissed on. And don't you dare tell me that you didn't enjoy it."_

Fawn wriggled around on the bed, causing Rocco to whine at his irritable mistress. "But—"

" _No buts, Fawn. Every time I call you that man's name invariably creeps up into the conversation and not just because you're mad at him. Now what I want to know is, what are you going to do about him? Pretty soon that battery-operated thing you call a boyfriend won't be cutting it anymore."_

"Jesus Christ, are there no boundaries with you?" Fawn gasped.

" _Ha! Look who's talking boundaries. The Fawn Trager I know knows no boundaries. The Fawn I know would already have this man chained to her bed, cutting him loose just so he could make her pancakes in the morning."_

"You're exaggerating." Fawn replied, struck dumb by just how well her friend actually knew her.

" _Maybe about the pancakes. Lately, you seem more of an omelet-kinda-girl." Fawn could hear the smirk in Tina's voice. "Whatever the plan is, you need to come up with one soon. It's already proving near impossible for you to juggle one man around Charming, never mind two."_

Fawn shot straight up into a sitting position. "What are you talking about?"

_She heard Tina sigh over the phone. "Well, I was going to call you, so it's a good thing you beat me to it." She paused. "You had a visitor stop by the salon today."_

"Oh shit! Please don't say his name. Anybody but him." Fawn moaned.

" _Sorry, sweetheart, but it was Max."_

Fawn gulped. "What did you tell him?"

" _Nothing," Tina hesitated. "But Sasha did."_

"What?!" Fawn shrieked.

" _Now calm down. It's not as bad as all that."_

"Not to you. I really don't need any more shit right now. What did Sasha tell him?"

" _Just that you've been gone for a few months . . . and that you're in Charming."_

"Damn it! He did that shit on purpose!" Fawn yelled.

" _Probably, after all, it is Sasha's time of the month. But I don't think you should get your thong in a bunch just yet. So what? Max knows you're in Charming. That doesn't necessarily mean he's gonna come down for a visit."_

"From your mouth to God's ears, but I know Max." Fawn jumped up from the bed to pace around the small room. "Even when shit is over and done with, it never really is with him."

" _Well, look on the bright side. Now that you've worked out your daddy issues, maybe you can finally make things work with Max. God knows he's the only one that keeps coming back no matter how bad you've treated him."_

"Again, _b_ _itch_ , who's side are you on?"

" _I'm on yours, honey, and I just want to see you happy. Giving Max a twelfth chance may not be a bad thing," Tina advised. "That is, unless you like this biker a lot more than you're letting on."_


	12. New Ventures

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Fawn smiled as her newest regular happily bounced out of the shop, the bell over the door tinkling as it closed behind her. Turning, she stretched her arms out wide, arching her back to relieve herself of the kinks from standing on her feet for several hours.

"Another satisfied customer," Fawn crowed happily. "That shit really makes my day." She announced as she flopped down on an empty chair in the shop's meager reception area.

"It sure does." Gina grinned back. "There's nothing like giving somebody a new look, along with a boost to their self-confidence." She replied as she worked her comb through her client's hair. "Sometimes, shit just falls the wrong way down and you go get your hair did and your nails done—"

"And all is right with the world." Lexie finished her mother's sentence as she took another sheet of aluminum foil from her helpful client as she applied her color.

"Yeah, especially when our clients are good tippers," Joanie replied. "So get the hint people. Tight-fisted and cheap bitches get jacked up hair."

"Aw, girls. Let a job well done be your reward." Fawn teased.

"Shut up, Fawn!" Mary Ellen said playfully as she swept hair in an assortment of colors into a small pile. "The only way you'd make more tips than you do now is by stripping."

Fawn laughed with the rest of her co-workers. It had started out a pretty busy day and now, as they went into the late afternoon, Fawn finally had a moment to eat a quick lunch. Just about to head back to her station, she heard the tinkle of the bell above the shop door announcing another client.

"Hello, I'm here to see—oh, never mind. She's right here. Hello."

Fawn looked over at the reception desk to see an older woman of medium height with graying blond hair. A bit heavyset and using a cane, the woman had something of a faded beauty.

Fawn stood up to greet what was probably a new customer, her brain already running through a catalog of hair color that would complement the woman's skin tone.

"Hi. Are you looking for me?" Fawn smiled as she approached the older woman.

"Yes I am. You're Fawn, right? We haven't officially met, but I've seen you around. I'm Mary Winston."

Fawn looked at her blankly.

"Opie's Mom." Mary said helpfully as the rest of Fawn's co-workers stared avidly.

 _Oh shit! Redwood has a mother?_ Fawn marveled that such a small woman was responsible for birthing the outlaw giant.

Needless to say, even though a week had passed, Fawn was still reeling from the epic showdown she had been a part of with the SAMCRO VP outside Gina's. Fawn had gone out of her way to avoid running into Opie or Ellie and, as far as she was concerned, she wouldn't mind keeping the status quo.

 _If Opie sent his Mommy down here to rip me open a new one, the poor woman doesn't know what she's got herself into_.

However, before she could open her mouth, Mary asked, "Is there somewhere we could talk? Privately?"

Looking over Mary's shoulder to see the worried look on Gina's face, Fawn relented. It was obvious that Gina didn't want another showdown, at least not one that didn't include a hot biker mauling one of her stylists. Gina was still raving about the hotness of the bearded outlaw.

"Uh, sure. Why don't you come on back?" Fawn gently placed her hand on the woman's elbow and led the way to her station. Offering her client chair to the older woman, Fawn sat down on another small chair effectively blocking Mary from her nosy co-workers and their clients. "How can I help you?"

"First off, sweetie, I just wanted to know if you're okay." Mary dropped her handbag on top of Fawn's workstation. "I heard that you were a tough cookie, but you just never know. Even the strongest of women have been known to crack under the pressure of dealing with moody bikers."

Hearing the woman's true concern in her voice surprised Fawn, but she relaxed in her chair. "I couldn't be better." She smiled wryly. "I don't have any problems handling my shit against cranky bikers."

 _Good, then it's just as I heard and hoped_ , Mary grinned inwardly.

Mary did a good job of keeping her ear to the ground, especially since it was definitely easier now that she lived in Charming and not 75 miles away in Galt. It had long since been brought to her attention that ever since Tig Trager's spawn had blown into town that her son had been acting like he had a hornet's nest right up his ass. Not that Mary was unaware of the personality changes she was seeing in her son. And she was glad of it.

Having to sit back and watch her son come to terms with the loss of his wife while trying to keep his family together had been difficult. The only positive thing that had come from Opie losing Donna was that it had managed to pull the two of them closer together as mother and son. And as a woman now up in age and a lot wiser, Mary hated seeing her son morph into an unhappy version of his old man.

Despite dealing with his best friend John Teller's death, Piney's drinking and whoring hadn't been the result of misplaced grief. Although they had been estranged for years, Mary had long since accepted that Piney had cheated on her simply because he loved women and booze too damn much.

 _The big shit just couldn't help himself_.

But Opie had been a different man than Piney. In spite of the example set by his father, Opie had managed to live in a happy and monogamous relationship with her daughter-in-law until the day she died. Deep below the surface of his newly-acquired gruff personality existed a loving and caring soul without a mate. It would break Mary's heart to see her son grow old all alone.

She had been hearing a lot about Fawn Trager lately. First from Ellie, who had nearly talked her ear off about the young woman, and then from acquaintances around town who had borne witness to a heated moment between the hairstylist and her son. After a good long talk with Neeta Benson on the Teller's patio over slices of her red velvet cake and her special California Iced Tea—a recipe that the heifer still wouldn't let go—Mary had made the decision to talk to Fawn. Maybe it was time to start interfering in the lives of her son and grandchildren if she was to ever see them truly happy again.

Facing the younger woman, Mary smiled. "That's really good to hear. I know my son came down here last week and acted all kinds a fool. Bikers aren't usually the first to admit when they're wrong, even though my Ope is better at it than most. I just wanted you to know that most of him getting out of line had to do with Ellie more than anything else. He really loves his little girl."

Fawn nodded. "I think I got that."

"Now the other reason he acted up, well, you're a smart girl, so I think you can figure that shit out for yourself. And maybe one day you'll do something about the fireworks between you two. In the meantime, I'm here to talk to you about my granddaughter."

Unwilling to address the hot potato that Mary had tossed in her direction about the sparks between her and Opie, Fawn jumped to the part that she was willing to deal with. "Ellie? What do you think I can do to help?"

"Well, SAMCRO is a small community, honey, and while I don't claim to have knowledge of the intimate details of the Trager family, I do have some. Enough to know that you had gone through your own shit as a teenager. Am I right?"

"Possibly." Fawn acknowledged.

"Well, let's not dick around, now. Either you hit skid row or ya didn't. I'm not judging you," Mary retorted as she saw Fawn's eyes sparkle in anger. "I'm just hoping that what I heard is right."

"Hold on." Fawn put up a hand. "You're _hoping_ that I lived some degenerate lifestyle?"

"Don't get me wrong. If what I heard is true, I am sorry you had to go through all of that, but you have made quite an impression on Ellie. She told me that you went through a lot of shit at her age, yet here you are," Mary held up her hands. "Living a good, productive, and happy life. That's want I want Ellie exposed to, not those cheap whores that hang around the Clubhouse. It would be great for her to learn from your experience without actually doing a drive-by through it. When I heard what that little prick tried to do to my granddaugther, I was so relieved that you were there to stop him. If I had been there, I would have used this cane to kick that little punk's ass." She said angrily.

Fawn smiled at the suddenly pink-cheeked woman. "Yeah, I totally believe you would have, too."

Mary took a deep breath to calm down. "Look, I know that you're still probably pissed at Ope. He shouldn't have taken his anger out on you, but I know that eventually he'll see that he was wrong and apologize himself—"

"I won't hold my breath."

"I wouldn't either, but I believe it will happen. In the meantime, I came to offer my apology and my thanks for what you did for Ellie. And—" Mary hesitated.

" _And_?"

"And to ask a favor. I think it would be great if you could give Ellie, well, I guess you would call it a spa day sometime this week." Fawn blinked her eyes as the woman continued. "I'd pay for it all, of course—the whole nine yards—hair, nails, feet, make up, whatever. Make an afternoon out of it." Mary said with a hopeful smile. "That is, if you're free one day this week."

Fawn bit her lip, not sure what to make of this woman that had just blown into the shop and was now attempting to turn her life upside down. Sure, Fawn liked Ellie a lot, but spending time with the young woman would all but guarantee that she would have contact with Opie Winston one way or another.

With that thought, the words were out of her mouth before they registered with her brain. "I would have to double-check, but I think my afternoon is free on Thursday."

"That's perfect!" The older woman exclaimed.

"Wait, wait." Fawn came to her senses. "What does Opie have to say about this? The last time I stuck my nose into his business, I got told to fuck off."

 _And kissed like no other woman on earth existed_ , her inner voice yelled. _Don't forget that shit. I want a repeat_!

Mary fixed her eyes firmly on the younger woman. "Don't you worry about that. I have it all taken care of." She lied. Fawn's bullshit meter was ringing alarm bells in her head and she let Mary know by the look on her face. "Okay, I promise to get Opie to sign off on this. If I don't, I'll cancel the appointment. What do you say? I believe that having another accomplished woman around at this particular time in Ellie's life would really help. You can understand that, right?"

Looking into the pleading eyes of the older woman, Fawn felt herself caving in. The fact was that something had tugged a little at her heart when she first met Ellie and that feeling had not gone away.

"Okay, I'll do it." Fawn conceded as Mary clapped her hands excitedly. "But I'm telling you now, if your son comes back here acting the fool, I won't be responsible for the consequences."

"I totally understand," Mary practically babbled as she reached for her bag and stood up. "There won't be any problems, I promise. I'll have Ellie come straight here after school on Thursday."

 _If Fawn can fix Ellie, maybe she can fix my stubborn blockhead of a son too!_ Beaming, Mary slowly walked out of the shop and headed towards her car.

* * *

Opie had been sitting in the cab of his pickup truck outside the salon for the past hour smoking cigarette after cigarette. Ellie had called him earlier to let him know that Fawn would be giving her a lift home, but after wrapping up at the garage earlier than expected, Opie had decided to save her the trip. With his elbow resting against the open window, Opie kept stroking his bottom lip with his thumb as he relived the intense moments he had shared with Fawn on this very street almost a week ago.

He could see Fawn darting around the salon as she put the finishing touches on Ellie's hair, a brilliant smile permanently fixed on her pretty face. His daughter and Dolly Parton's clone seemed to be bantering back and forth, making the other women in the salon laugh, but Opie only had eyes for Fawn. Even from this distance, he could see her intense blue eyes flash brilliantly as she laughed. Seeing her in the environment she was obviously most comfortable in, Fawn seemed like a free-spirit more than ever.

"I'd give anything to see her act that way around me." Opie said out loud, forcing a smirk out of himself.

Truth was he'd give just about anything just to be within kissing distance again, but Opie had needed time to calm down. After dealing with the Chip situation and having yet another heart-to-heart with Ellie after Mary had come to him suggesting a "spa day" for his daughter, Opie had to think long and hard about Fawn Trager.

Although he had initially been adamant about holding a grudge against Fawn for not coming to him right away about what had happened in Stockton, he soon realized what he was dealing with when it came to Ellie. Fawn had made a hell of a lot of sense as they argued in the middle of Main Street. He had just been too stubborn to admit it at the time.

 _So I nearly smothered her with my mouth instead_.

In retrospect, Opie had to admit that, as a teenage girl without a mother, whatever Ellie was going through was obviously beyond his wheelhouse. With Jolene backing his own mother in her assessment of Fawn, Opie came to realize that they were right. Fawn was probably the only female in their immediate SAMCRO family with the experience to make the right impact on Ellie. The irony that Ellie seemed to know this from the beginning was not lost on him. In fact, Opie realized, he had been somewhat in denial because of his own feelings towards the young woman from Seattle.

Thinking of what was best for his daughter, Opie had been prepared to give up on any further exploration of what had transpired between him and Tig's daughter right in front of God and a whole town full of witnesses. Seeing Fawn again for the first time since the kiss that had him taking longer and longer showers, however, had Opie wondering, questioning why having it both ways would be impossible.

In spite of his recent track record where women were concerned, Ellie was almost an adult and quite capable of maintaining friendships with the people in Opie's life. Why should Fawn Trager be any different?

 _Maybe because I'm not fantasizing about banging_ _anyone_ _like I am Fawn_.

As a Son, Opie couldn't remember a time when he had denied himself who or what he wanted, before or after Donna, that is. In spite of the fact that his brother Tig might have a problem with him tapping his kid, Opie would be damned if he could come up with a reason to continue denying himself the fiery redhead.

Before he could force himself to come up with one, Opie noticed Ellie heading towards the door of the salon. Stepping out of the truck, Opie flicked his cigarette into the street and was stepping onto the curb as his daughter bounced out onto the sidewalk.

"Hey, Daddy." Ellie smiled. "How do I look?" She twirled around to give her father the full effect. Her long dark wavy hair was a shiny mass of soft brown curls stopping at her shoulder blades. With a minimal amount of make up used to highlight the deep blue-green of her eyes and a neutral lip color, Ellie still looked very much her age. Just slightly more sophisticated without looking like some tarted up Lolita. She still looked like his little girl, fresh, sweet and innocent. Right down to her fingers and toes that were painted a soft pink with an elaborate design decorating both ring fingers.

Opie felt a lump form in his throat. _You look so much like your mother, baby._

Although he wasn't blind, at least not like Clay had been once Jolene had hit her "growth spurt", he felt like he had indeed been blindsided by just how much his little girl had grown up recently. With Kenny, Opie had no problem reconciling the fact that he was almost seventeen because his son was already so much like he had been at that age. Ellie, however, would always be his five year old princess with missing eye teeth and pigtails, despite the fact that with each passing day she looked more and more like a taller and curvier version of her mother.

But now, watching his daughter spinning around to show off her new look, he couldn't help but see just how she had grown up. Or how genuinely happy she was.

Or just how hot Fawn was looking today, he noticed as the stylist leaned against the open doorway with a slight smile playing on her lips as she and his daughter waited for his reaction.

Clearing his throat, Opie finally found his voice. "You look beautiful, baby. So I guess it's safe to assume you had a good time today?"

"It was awesome!" Ellie enthused. "In fact, I had such a great time that I wanna keep coming back." She batted her blue-green eyes prettily. "Gina offered me a job!"

"What?" Opie looked at Fawn.

Fawn put her hands in the air. "Hey, don't shoot. I had nothing to do with it. Lexie's been pushing Gina to hire someone part-time to help around the shop, cleaning up and running errands and such. I was surprised as shit when Gina offered Ellie the job two minutes ago."

"Please, Dad." Ellie implored. "I really want to do it. School will be out soon and I don't have anything else planned for the summer. _And_ it'll keep me out of trouble." She added triumphantly.

Opie, who had listened to every word his daughter had said while he and Fawn stared at each other, asked Ellie to wait in the truck while he had a word with her would-be mentor.

"Are you sure you want her hanging around?" Opie sounded hesitant. "Elle's a great kid and incredibly smart. I'm sure she'd be a great help around the shop if you really need her."

"Hey, I'm sure Gina wouldn't have offered her the job if we didn't need someone around. It doesn't pay much and it's for only a few hours a day, but she really hit it off with the other girls." Fawn assured him. "Everyone was quite impressed by how well-spoken and quick-witted she is. Ellie's gonna fit in just fine. At this point, it's up to you."

Opie looked confused. "Up to me?"

"Well, after what happened, I told Gina you might not be comfortable with Ellie hanging around _me_." Fawn replied.

"Listen, Fawn. About what happened," Opie started as he ran his hand over his beard.

"Yeah?" Fawn said expectantly, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not gonna apologize." Opie stated.

Fawn smirked and shook her head. "I didn't expect you to. I just hope you understand that I was only trying to help Ellie—"

"That's not what I'm talking about." Opie interrupted. Now it was Fawn's turn to look confused, even though her heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest. "I don't regret kissing you. I don't regret that shit _at all_ , so I'm not apologizing. You okay with that?"

 _You hear that, girlfriend? He's not apologizing_ , her inner-Fawn snarked _. He likes you! He really likes you!_

Telling inner-Fawn to shut her pie hole for one minute, Fawn narrowed her sparkling blue eyes on Opie like laser beams. "So, what? You make it a habit of mauling women in the street without so much as an invitation?" She retorted, not prepared to cave just yet.

"Nope. Just fire-breathing ball-busting redheads that thoroughly piss me off. Besides, at the time, I don't exactly remember you beating me away with a stick." Opie fought to contain a grin at the sight of Fawn's wide-eyed indignation.

 _That's right_ _,_ inner-Fawn was quick to side with the sexy biker. _You were all over that shit, too_. _And after a year-long dry spell, I think you're up for seconds_.

 _Yeah, I was all over that shit_ , Fawn admitted to her inner voice. _And Opie's not the only one who doesn't regret it 'cause I am sure as fuck ready for seconds_.

Allowing herself to smile, Fawn replied. "I'm okay with that."

Opie smiled, throwing her a wink that made her knees weak. "By the way, what the fuck ever happened to my hat?" He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Fawn flashed him a half grin. "Oh, you mean that old beanie? I threw it away." She lied.

"It wasn't a fuckin' beanie." Opie took a step towards her.

Even though she could feel her lady parts throbbing—or maybe her heart had just fallen into her underpants—Fawn stood her ground. "You say toe-may-toe, I say ta-mah-toe."

"Yeah, okay." Opie smiled. He was so close he was looking down at her. Pushing herself away from the doorway, Fawn pulled herself up to her impressive height, which was still not eye-to-eye with Opie in spite of her five-inch ass-kicking platform booties. "I've had a long time to think things over," He started.

"A week, to be exact." Fawn added cheekily.

Opie nodded. "I do appreciate what you did for Ellie," He said, surprising Fawn. "But if you ever see her about to go off the rails again, I'd appreciate a head's up."

Fawn smiled. "So what are you saying? You don't mind having Ellie hang around me? You're gonna let her take the job?"

Opie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you've done, but I haven't seen her this happy or excited in months." _Actually, years_ , he said to himself. "Thank you for that."

"Opie, she really is a great kid. She's just struggling a little."

"I know. Without her mother for guidance, I'm just thankful she has my mom, Gemma, Jolene, and now you." Opie said sincerely. "God knows teenage girls are an enigma. I can't do this shit on my own and I'm man enough to admit that."

"Aw, so what does that mean? For Ellie's sake, we can't bitch at each other anymore?" Fawn teased. "We gotta be like friends or something?"

" _Or something_." Opie replied quickly, once again surprising Fawn.

 _Oh yeah! I like_ _or something_ , inner-Fawn chimed in. _I like it_ _a lot_.

"I know I can handle that," Opie paused. "But can you? You got a pretty freaky temper on you, girl, screaming at me in the middle of the damn street."

Falling for the bait, Fawn quickly let that notorious temper flare. "What?! I wasn't the one who dragged my ass out of the shop like some cave—" Catching herself, Fawn winced as she saw the smirk on his face.

_The bastard got me!_

"I can handle it if you can." She sniffed.

"Good." Opie smiled, his eyes lingering on her lips. "See you around. _Soon_."

Watching as he walked around the back of his pickup, Fawn waved goodbye to Ellie who had been eagerly watching the entire exchange.

* * *

The powerful Dyna Glide was streaking down Main Street at an extremely high speed and the feel of the powerful bike between the rider's legs was bitchin'!

With lots of chrome, Harley-Davidson skulls on the clutch and brake levers, "SOA" displayed in large white lettering on the tank and 1500-horsepower, Tig Trager knew that, in spite of his brethren's bragging, _his_ bike was the best one to be found at the SAMCRO Clubhouse. He loved his bike and took better care of it than he ever had any old lady. After nearly three long months of not riding and a lot of aggressive therapy, in spite his nagging daughter's whining for him to take it slow, he was back in the saddle and loving every minute of it.

The SAA grinned as he tore ass down the street, making sure to avoid hitting any and all traffic lights between his place on the outskirts of town and the Clubhouse. Not even the dull ache in his still-healing hip bone and shoulder could spoil his good mood as he made his way to the T-M lot.

Pulling into the crowded parking lot late on a Friday afternoon, Tig made an impressive sight. His newly-trimmed curly locks were barely contained underneath his helmet as his dark sunglasses glinted in the bright sunlight. With a lit cigarette dangling from his lips and his powerful hands sporting all of his favorite reaper rings, he was outfitted from head to toe in black, his beloved leather kutte completing the menacing-looking picture.

"Well, looky here at what the fuckin' cat dragged in!" Clay Morrow grinned as he got up from the picnic table where he had been shooting the shit with Filthy Phil and Juice on the merits of a good Cohiba cigar. Approaching his brother as he parked his ride, Clay held his arms open wide. "My brother," He thundered as Tig placed his helmet on the bars of his bike and walked over with a slight limp to return his former President's crushing embrace. "I see you got a little hitch in your stride there, huh, Tig?"

"Ain't nothing to prevent me from riding my bike or anything else for that matter, brother." Tig grinned knowingly as he was warmly greeted by other members, as well as the mechanics on the lot and a large gathering of SAMCRO's pussy brigade. "Oh, come here, my precious kewpie dolls." The love-starved biker practically crooned as he gathered Katie and Darcy, two young sweetbutts, into his powerful arms.

"Oh, Tiggy baby, I missed you so much." Katie crooned, flipping her long blond hair with the ends tipped in a hot pink over her shoulder as she rubbed her hand over his chest.

"Not as much as I missed you." Darcy growled sexily against his ear. "Your dick's a girl's best friend and I've been _terribly_ lonesome."

"Oh trust me, sugar tits, so have I," Tig grinned salaciously as he smacked her plump ass in tight leather booty shorts. "But we're gonna fix that shit right now."

"Not yet, my brother." Jax interrupted as Tig almost melted into a puddle of whine. "Your reintroduction to all things depraved is gonna have to wait just a little while longer. Church comes first."

Knowing their place, the two pouting sweetbutts, along with a gaggle of other croweaters, retreated to the Clubhouse as Tig and his brothers followed, each discarding their burners in the customary cigar box sitting on the bar top before entering the Chapel.

Once settled, Jax called the meeting to order. "First off, I wanna say how good it is to have our brother with us again. Welcome back to the table, man." Tig happily accepted the round of raucous applause and catcalls with the huge grin that had been plastered on his face since he woke up in the morning.

"Well, let's welcome our brutha back properly, eh?" Chibs roared as he plunked down a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label on the table as Half Sack produced enough glasses to go around. Jax, who had the honor of pouring his SAA his first official drink back at the Clubhouse, served Tig up three fingers of the premium Scotch. Happily grabbing the shot glass, Tig downed his first taste of pure liquid gold to pass his lips in over three months, slamming the glass down on the Redwood table in satisfaction.

"Ah, fuck!" He exclaimed. "That shit was fuckin' fantastic! You have no idea how good it is to be back, man. Three months of no liquor, weed and pussy was bad enough, but I was starting to worry that I'd forget how to ride my Harley if I stayed away much longer."

"I know your bike ain't the only thing you missed riding," Happy called out lewdly. As everyone laughed, Happy continued. "I missed not having my strip club buddy around and so have the girls at the Jellybean. You got a couple of freebie lap dances comin' your way, bro."

"Shit!" Tig exclaimed. "Then let's hurry up with this meeting. I got a lot of catching up to do."

For the next thirty minutes, Tig was brought up to speed on recent Club business, which had been running pretty smoothly of late.

"So how's the hip and shoulder treating ya, brutha? I'm getting too old trying to keep Jackie Boy here in line." Chibs said among the laughter.

"Good, man. Good enough that I got the okay to get my ass back on my ride, but the Doc still wants me doing the rehab shit at least three times a week." The SAA groused. "It may take a minute, though, before I get my aim back. Any new prospects I can use as target practice?"

Amid more laughter, Jax replied, a knowing glint in his eye. "We may have a new one sooner rather than later, but we'll discuss that some other time."

"That's great." Tig replied. "It's been a good long while since I've been able to scare the shit out of one." He grinned at Tiki. "I may have lost my touch and need the practice."

"Trust me, you don't need any more practice, bro." Tiki shot back. "Besides, I'm sure having Fawn to kick around for the last three months has kept your skill up to par."

"The spawn of Trager?" Opie smirked. "Not even Tig could intimidate that one. She is one tough bitch." _Sexy as hell, too_.

"She sure as shit is," Tig said rather proudly. "Fawnzy has sure done her part to try and give me hell over the last few months."

" _Try_?" Bobby asked incredulously. "How about more like she succeeded?"

Tig tried waving his brother off as Clay chimed in. "I'm willing to bet that tough-as-nails kid of yours is the reason you're up and about _way_ sooner than even your own doctor expected, just so you could get away from her."

"Hey," Jax spoke up, coming to Fawn's defense. "She may be a little rough around the edges, but she did a'ight by her old man. I don't think you could've paid for better care."

"Yeah," Tig acknowledged proudly. "She's a good kid. Better than I deserve, but I'm still grateful she's got that job down at the salon to keep her busy. I mean, she's alright to have around and shit, but a man does need his own space. That's why I couldn't be happier about being back here with my brothers."

"And soon there might be one more brother sitting here with us at the table. Ain't that right, Prez?" Opie stated.

"That's right, brother." Jax leaned back and took a long drag of his cigarette. "I got a call today from Lowen. Seems that Big Otto made good with the Parole Board. Barring any trouble going forward from here until then, he'll be out of Stockton and back here with us in a couple of months."

"Hot damn!" Bobby exclaimed. "That's fantastic news! I bet Kit's gonna flip the fuck out at the thought of having the Big O back."

"No doubt. She's been planning his welcome home bash since the word first came down the pike. Now that it's official, she'll be throwing the mother of all parties for our brother. You know my old lady's big on family, so expect it to be just that to start with, but once the kids and most of the old ladies have called it a night—" Jax winked.

"It will be the fuckin' party to end all parties. Better than a patch over, even." Happy said with a light in his eye.

"Ah, sweet. Not only will it attract members of other charters, but every sweetbutt and croweater worth her salt will be banging down our doors." Tig added, damn near drooling at the thought of new pussy.

"Maybe we can even manage to find Filthy Phil here a fresh sweetbutt for an old lady." Half Sack chimed in.

"Hey, just 'cause Cherry done nailed your ass to the wall don't mean I'm going down without a fight," Phil replied as he was ribbed by other members. "I'm not quite ready to settle down just yet. There's more than enough of me to go around." He wriggled his eyebrows.

"Man, I think there might be _too_ much." Tig added good-naturedly.

"Don't hate, man. No need to be jealous just 'cause your old bag of bones ain't in top form!" Phil stood up to properly show off his physique, which he had steadily trimmed of a significant amount of fat, slowly building up it up again with muscle while Tig had been out of commission. "I'm rocking this."

"Okay, enough of this showboating shit. My dick's bigger than all of yours!" Opie hollered over the noise. "I'm making a motion for the Prez to close this meeting so we can get the party started."

"'Nuff said." Jax slammed the gavel down. "Meeting adjourned."

Jumping from his seat, Tig opened the Chapel doors and threw his arms wide open for the two sweetbutts who had been waiting impatiently by the bar.

"Later, brothers!" Tig bellowed as the trio headed towards his dorm. "I'm armed and dangerous. I will shoot any asshole who comes knocking on my door. You've been warned!"

* * *

"Good afternoon ladies!" Tiki greeted roguishly as he entered the shop.

"My, my," Mary Ellen muttered under her breath as she discreetly fanned herself with the tips she had been in the process of counting. "Ever since Fawn started working here, we've been getting treated to all types of delicious biker eye candy."

"Uh huh." Joanie replied with a spark in her dark brown eyes. "And this one's even better looking than Fawn's Redwood." She said, referring to the brawny biker that had treated Fawn to a tongue lashing, literally. Turning her head, she yelled behind her. "Fawn, you've got company!"

But instead of Gina's newest stylist, it was the salon's current part-time help that came from the back, hoping her dad had dropped by to see Fawn.

Ellie Winston, wearing one of Gina's signature hot pink smocks bedazzled with rhinestones on the collar and pouch pocket, came to a dead stop. Her blue-green eyes widened as she spotted the young biker leaning up against the reception desk avidly flirting with Marcy, who was batting her eyes at him. As the receptionist draped her recently red-tipped claws at the base of her throat, drawing Tiki's attention to the deep v-neck blouse that was currently putting her best assets on display, Ellie's eyes narrowed grimly as she stalked to the front of the shop just in time to hear the young woman's comment.

"That sure is a real beauty of a bike out there," Marcy grinned. "Maybe one of these days you can stop by after work and give me a ride."

"Are you sure your _boyfriend_ wouldn't mind?" Ellie asked innocently with a sweet saccharine smile before Tiki had a chance to open his mouth. "After all, riding bitch on a motorcycle isn't for everyone. You just might end up getting hurt."

"Uh oh. Looks like somebody is staking a claim, gurl." Joanie said to Fawn in a sing-song voice.

 _Shit, Joanie's sure right about that_ , Fawn thought as she fought to hold back a guffaw. _Ellie's going for blood_.

Having settled her client under a hair dryer, it had taken Fawn a moment to realize that her little helper had disappeared and why. Now seeing the receptionist turning a bright shade of pink as her young charge practically stared her down with a somewhat stormy expression on her face, Fawn figured it was best to diffuse the situation herself before it got out of hand.

"Hey, Tiki! What the hell are you doing here?" Fawn called out.

Pushing away from the desk, the young outlaw biker sauntered over. Failing miserably to hide a knowing grin at the antics of his brother's young daughter, he held up a brown paper bag. "I come bearing gifts from my Dad. He got back from Tahoe last night and has been on a baking tear ever since. He thought you and the girls might enjoy some of these." Opening the bag, he withdrew a plastic container filled with baked goods.

Suddenly, the teenager squealed with delight. "Are those Bobby's brownies?" Ellie asked.

"Yup. He made them with Fawn in mind, so no hash. They're still good, though." Tiki grinned.

Reaching for the container, Fawn's eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head as she removed the lid, the heavenly scent of the chewy deep chocolate brownies immediately scenting the air. "Aw, Bobby is the best. I'll make sure to give him a call later and thank him for keeping my sobriety in mind while feeding my chocolate addiction."

Smiling, Tiki turned an eye on the suddenly-blushing teenager. "That was some serious cock-blocking over there, Little One."

"Trust me, I did you a favor," Ellie managed to say in a low voice. "Marcy's great and all, but she's seen more dick than a stadium urinal."

The biker raised an eyebrow, running a hand through his shoulder length dark hair. "Alrighty then. On that note, I guess I should be getting outta here. I've got a quick run to Eureka to get ready for." He said, turning towards the exit.

"Thanks for dropping these off, Tiki." Fawn said. Looking down at her teenage companion, Fawn arched an eyebrow. "You know you're gonna have to make it up to Marcy, but you should probably apologize to Tiki, too." As the young girl met her eyes, Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Just saying." She replied as she headed back to her station.

Heaving a sigh, Ellie walked past Marcy without making eye contact and hurried outside to catch the biker before he left.

"Hey, Tiki?"

Looking up, he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the hesitant young woman. _She really is too_ cute, he noted Ellie's pink-stained cheeks. "What?" He asked with a little feigned gruffness.

"I just wanna apologize," Ellie started, more than just a little embarrassed. Mortified was a good way to put it. "I shouldn't have stuck my nose in your business."

"No, you shouldn't." Tiki agreed.

"I mean, if your goal is to see how many STDs you can catch from one ride on the town bicycle, who am I to stop you." Ellie heard herself say, yet hoped beyond all hope that she had only said those words in her own head.

Tiki couldn't help himself from laughing out loud. "I sure hope diarrhea of the mouth isn't the only skill you're picking up from Tigger's kid."

Biting the inside of her lip, Ellie sighed. "Aw, shit. I'm sorry. I shoulda quit with my apology while I was ahead, huh?"

"Nah, don't sweat it, Little One." Tiki gently placed his gloved fingers on her chin, gently nudging her to look up at him. "We're SAMCRO and we have our own twisted ways of looking out for each other."

Ellie moistened her lips. "Speaking of which, Tiki, I never really got the chance to thank you for what you did. To Chip, that is."

"No thanks necessary. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Tiki assured her with a heart-melting smile.

"I know," Ellie smiled back. "It won't happen again, though. I've learned my lesson big time."

"Good, but just so that you know, I'll always have your back." Squeezing her chin gently with his thumb and index finger, Tiki straddled his bike and pulled out, giving Ellie a quick wink as he roared down the street.

Ellie was grinning from ear-to-ear as she bounced back into the salon. _H_ _aving my back is certainly a start in the right_ direction.

* * *

 _Boy, did I luck out today_.

Filthy Phil grinned to himself as he chatted with Fawn, who was sitting across from him in the cab of the T-M tow truck. He had really been enjoying their conversation ever since he picked her up off the I-22. Fawn Trager was definitely outspoken, but not in the annoying chatty way of most young women. She was funny as hell and really pretty, too.

 _Almost too hard to believe she's Tigger's kid_.

A patched member for nearly five years, it had taken Phil a while to find his place in the MC. He had been somewhat naïve about the Club in the beginning, thinking it was all about the kutte and riding around on his Harley-Davidson Fat Boy. He learned soon enough what being a one-percenter actually entailed and in spite of barely surviving a couple of hairy situations as a Club member, Phil wouldn't trade his life now for nothing in the world.

He was now part of a brotherhood of men that would die for each other, the closest thing he ever had to a real family of brothers, something that he truly longed for growing up as an only child. He was also making more money than he ever thought possible and living in one of the dorms not only made it easy to save for rainy day, but let him enjoy all the fringe benefits that came with being a Son. Namely, having a different woman to share his bed at night, if that's what he wanted.

And he did, most of the time, but deep down, Phil was a traditional kind of guy. Even though he kidded around with his brothers about his lack of interest in finding an old lady, lately he had found himself contemplating settling down. The want was there, but all he needed was a woman suitable enough.

The best advice he had been given while he had been a Prospect had not come from one of his future brothers, but from a very wise woman, Miss Neeta Benson.

 _Just don't go hooking up with one of those sweetbutts. Find yourself a good old lady, like_ _Jolene._

After having more than his share of Club women, Phil could understand what Miss Neeta had meant. However, while sweetbutts and croweaters were a dime a dozen, women like his old math teacher weren't just lying around waiting to be snatched up. Then along came the likes of Fawn Trager, enabling Phil to see that the class of woman Miss Neeta had been talking about did exist after all.

Phil knew he was fooling himself into thinking that the sexy young woman was unattached and without prospects. All he would allow himself to know for sure was that he would be dumb as shit if he let the opportunity pass without at least making a play. Being on the road for the past 40 minutes with the engaging young woman had obviously softened his brain if he was willing to overlook the fact that something was obviously brewing between the feisty woman and SAMCRO's VP.

 _But_ , Phil reasoned with himself after taking an almost complete inventory of all the tats she was sporting. _She's not rockin' anyone's crow, making her fair game_.

So when he spotted her stranded on the side of the road with her car, Filthy Phil had been more than happy to pull the tow truck over in order to give Fawn and her broken down cage a lift to T-M.

* * *

Fawn grinned as the tow truck pulled into the lot.

 _Phil is such a sweetheart_ , she thought of the young, yet ginormous patch. Although totally unlike the majority of the rough and ornery bikers she had met to date, there was something of an endearing quality about the young man. _Besides, there's just something about big men I can't get enough of. It's too bad really,_ Fawn sighed to herself. _There's just no way I'd ever be_ _content with a tenderoni like him_.

 _Ha ha ha! You got that_ _right_ , her inner-Fawn jeered. _You'd_ _eat him up and chew him to bits. The poor sucker wouldn't stand a chance with a man-eater like you._

 _I bet he wouldn't complain, though_ , Fawn snarked back.

As the tow truck pulled to a stop in front of one of the garage bays, Fawn smiled at Filthy Phil as she took off her seatbelt. "You are a lifesaver. Thanks Phil. If you hadn't spotted me, I'd probably still be on the side of the road. That's what I get for letting my phone die on me."

"No problem, Fawn." The giant patch got out of the truck and hurried around the side to open the passenger door for her. "Once I unhook your car, I'll see what's wrong with it."

"Oh, you can unhook it," A tenor voice drawled out. "But _I'll_ be the one looking under the hood. Something tells me this model is well beyond your ability, Phil."

Phil grimaced to himself as he eyed his VP. _Somehow, I don't think he's talking about the car_.

Fawn's eyebrows rose as she took in a territorial-looking Opie standing there with his arms crossed over his chest as he menaced her rescuer with just one look. "That's not fair," She started, her hands on her hips barely covered by her low-riding jeans. "I think Phil is capable of just about anything. He's such a gentleman too, unlike _some_ beasts I know."

Seeing his VP's expression, Phil quickly determined that in spite of the absence of a crow tat, Fawn Trager was off-limits. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Fawn, but I'm sure the Veep's right. Anyway, I promised Abel we'd work on a transmission together, so I better just unhitch your car and then get to it."

"Yeah," Opie replied. "You do that." He eyed the young man as he lumbered away after lowering the Buick.

Seeing Opie Winston always managed to set her heart fluttering in her chest and lately, because of Ellie, it seemed that the two of them were making more of an effort to be civil to one another. Every so often, however, they'd slip back into their snarky ways.

Like now.

"Thanks for the rescue, Phil." Fawn called out before turning to face Opie. "Why the need to be so fuckin' mean, you ogre?"

"It's called looking out for my brother. He has no idea what he's in for with you. The pretty packaging hides a shitload of crazy, you know." Opie smiled, barely dodging the girly fist aimed at his shoulder. "Now let's see what damage you've done to this fine cage." Sticking the bandana he used to wipe the sweat off his brow into the back pocket of his work pants, Opie lifted the hood.

"I didn't do shit." Fawn exclaimed. "I practically rub its ass with cream before wrapping it in a diaper. It just died on me on the highway. Engine started smoking and shit. I was afraid it was going to burst into flames."

Opie gave her an appreciative look as his eyes ran over her tight jeans and even tighter black tank top, grinning at writing stretched across her generous bust in hot pink italicized letters: _This Big Whore is Spoken For_.

_Damn straight about that. She just don't know it yet._

Getting his mind out of the gutter and back on track, Opie replied, "And your lead foot didn't have anything to do with that?"

"No." She said irritably.

"Really? How fast were you going?"

Fawn rolled her eyes. "60, maybe 65?" She hedged.

 _Liar_! Her inner voice shouted. _Your ass was hauling at least 80_.

 _Shut up, traitor_!

Apparently, Opie agreed with her inner voice. "Yeah, right. You forget, I've seen you in action. It's much cooler in the Clubhouse. Why don't you go and have a seat in there? It's gonna take me a minute to figure out how you abused this baby."

* * *

After spending a little time shooting the breeze with Bobby over a cup of coffee and a slice of his banana bread, Fawn decided to check up on the big bad biker working on her car to see how it was coming along. Ignoring a couple of the Club whores sitting on a couch, grateful that old cheap dye job was not among them, Fawn sashayed her way to the door.

Stepping outside, she was about to head over to Opie, who had moved her car into one of the bays, when she heard the pipes of a bike roar onto the parking lot. She grinned as she spotted Kenny Winston on his ride with his sister riding behind him. Fawn met the twins halfway and smiled as Ellie hopped off the bike to greet her with a hug before the bike had come to a full stop.

"Here you are!" Ellie exclaimed. "I stopped by the salon and was told you were missing in action."

"Yeah, my car died on me on my way back from Stockton." Fawn replied. "Hey Kenny. How's it hanging?"

"Long and lean, Fawn baby." Kenny said, winking at her. "Damn! You're looking really good today. No chance you might be interested in sampling some jailbait?"

"Son, you're embarrassing yourself." Opie sauntered up to the group. "You really need to perfect your game before trying it out on a woman way above your pay grade."

"Hey, can't blame a man for trying," Kenny shrugged his shoulders. "I might get lucky someday."

"Keep dreaming," Ellie teased as she wrapped an arm around her father's waist. Changing the subject, Ellie asked, "How's Fawn's car?"

"Not too good." Opie cocked his head. "So what do you want first, the good news or the bad news?" He directed at Fawn.

"Uh oh. Here comes the shyster mechanic routine. I know I'm gonna have to pay a ransom for my car, so just give it to me straight, Redwood. What's the deal?" Fawn said as Kenny and Ellie snorted with laughter.

"No ransom. We can figure out a payment plan later." Opie said with a wicked gleam in his eye, as Ellie and Kenny exchanged a knowing look. "The good news is that the alternator needs replacing. The old one's shot."

" _That's_ the good news?" Fawn nearly choked. "Shit, I'm afraid to ask, but what's the bad news?"

"It's gonna take a minute, up to a week, maybe more before we can track down the parts we need. Your ride's out of commission for the foreseeable future." Opie replied.

"That's just great." Fawn ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Getting around is going to be so much fun without a car."

"Hey, I'm available to give you a lift any time you need." Kenny volunteered, ignoring his father's stink eye.

Ellie clapped her hands. "That's a great idea!" She crowed. "You and Dad can take turns giving Fawn a ride."

Opie didn't like the sound of that at all. Before he could open his mouth, Kenny piped up again.

"Yeah, but school's out now and with Dad probably _much too busy_ , I can take care of Fawn's needs all week." Kenny grinned. "Good looking out, Elle."

Fawn would have laughed out loud if not for the slightly pissed off look Opie was directing at his son.

Deciding that he never, _ever_ wanted to see Fawn ride bitch on anyone's bike but his own, Opie dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, handing them to Fawn. "Here, for now you can take my pickup. I brought it in to change the oil. We'll work something out later."

Before Fawn could agree to the offer, Ellie quickly snatched the keys out of Fawn's hand. "Great! I'm driving. Since today's the last day of school, I think we should celebrate with a nice dinner. Fawn and I will go to the supermarket, pick up a few things, and head to the house to cook while you wrap things up here, Dad."

"Uh, Ellie, I don't know," Fawn started. "That kinda gives your Dad no notice at all. I'm sure he has other plans in mind."

 _Hell's yeah, I have other plans and none of them include dinner_ , Opie smirked to himself. _But for now, I'll take it_.

"Nope, no plans to speak of," Opie drawled. "I think it's a great idea. Maybe we can find a minute to hash out that payment plan I mentioned earlier."

Fawn felt herself flush as she noticed the self-satisfied smiles of the Winston kids. "Okay, I guess that settles it. I'll be seeing you later then." She eyed Opie.

"Lucky me." Opie murmured to her, his eyes flashing wickedly before Fawn turned and followed Ellie towards the pickup.

* * *

Riding off after dropping Fawn at her place, Opie had the sudden urge to hit the open road. He needed a good long ride to clear his mind and to think things through. Spending time with Fawn and his family had been really nice. Nicer than he had expected it to be.

So much for keeping his sex life and his family life apart.

Truth was, when it came to Fawn, that way of thinking made no sense to him anymore. She was different. Different from the Club hang-arounds. Different from Lyla.

 _Different from Donna_.

For the next couple of hours after Ellie and Fawn had taken off, Opie had tried to keep his mind off the fact that Fawn would be puttering around in what used to be his old lady's kitchen, helping to prepare dinner for _his_ family. There hadn't been a woman in that kitchen other than his mother or Jolene ever since Donna had died.

Even though he knew he wanted Fawn, Opie couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he walked into his house and had his senses assaulted by the delicious, homey smells of a well-cooked meal. Finding his children and his mother laughing and talking a mile a minute with their guest, who was wedged between the Winstons on the sofa with a photo album on her lap, had him wanting to turn around and run.

And not because he felt that Fawn was an intruder who didn't belong in the home he had shared with his old lady, but because it seemed like this was right where she belonged. Suddenly, the thought that Donna was no longer with them didn't hurt his heart like it used to.

_WTF?_

"Hey, what's going on?" Opie said, surprised by how casual he sounded.

Fawn nearly jumped out of her seat. "Damn it! Someone should really put bells around your neck. For a big man, you sure have some stealth skills."

"Hey, honey," Mary looked up and grinned at her son, trying to determine what head space he was in by the placid look on his face. "We're showing Fawn some old family pictures."

"I can't believe how adorable these two were as babies." Fawn enthused as she flipped through the album.

"I can only speak for myself, but I'm still adorable." Kenny said without a bit of modesty.

"Oh shut up, asshole. You're so stuck on yourself." Ellie scoffed. "I'd rather be smart than just decorative any day of the week."

"Thankfully, you're both. How was report card?" Opie asked.

She jumped to hug her father. "Five A's and one B."

"That's great, baby." Opie bent to kiss the top of her head.

"Elle, stop teasing your brother. He didn't do bad at all." Mary came to her grandson's defense.

Fawn leaned back to look at young man who was now stretched out on the other side of the sectional sofa. "How did you do?"

"The exact opposite of Elle," Kenny grinned. "One A and five B's."

"Nana Helen would have said you could have done better if you spent more time studying and less time chasing girls." Ellie went to sit next to her brother and gave him a good ear tug.

"Chasing _and_ catching them." Kenny corrected. "Get that right."

"I don't think I've ever met your other grandmother." Fawn stated. "Has she been to any of the family dinners?"

"Ha! Never," Mary replied. "My daughter-in-law's mother thought being around bikers was beneath her."

"Helen Lerner passed away about a year ago." Opie replied grimly and Fawn noticed the hard glint in his eye.

"Well, it's time for dinner. I'm starving and I don't care what my doctor says. I'm going off my diet today, so to hell with my cholesterol." Mary grinned as she stood up. "While we get dinner on the table, Ope, you go and take a shower," She ordered her son. "And be quick about it before I pull out your naked baby pictures."

Sitting around the dining room table a short time later, Opie felt as if he had time warped into the past. After Donna's death, the Winstons had managed to come together and create a new family dynamic. It wasn't the same, but they had moved on as a family together. Now with Fawn sitting at their table, the conversation seemed livelier, the food tasted better, and the feeling of comfort that came from being surrounded by family seemed more intense.

Once again, Opie couldn't help but marvel that it was almost like Fawn fit right in with the family he had created with his deceased wife.

After dinner—and in spite of his many threats—Mary pulled out Opie's baby pictures, giving Fawn the opportunity to tease him mercilessly about his bald head and naked ass. There had been a few awkward moments when they had come across some pictures of them as a family with Donna, but it touched him as Fawn attitude seemed respectful and kind when commenting on them.

Not wanting Fawn to leave, the kids insisted on throwing on a movie, while Mary decided to call it a night. It was almost midnight when the movie ended and Opie couldn't believe how fast time had flown by. After saying her good-nights, Opie smiled to himself as Fawn bypassed the pickup truck sitting in the driveway and headed straight for Opie's bike. Without a word, Opie handed Fawn his helmet and decided right then that he would take the long way to her house on the outskirts of town.

It was a beautiful summer evening and despite the fact that there was very little traffic on the road, Opie took his time, prolonging the ride and the feel of Fawn's tight body plastered against his. Finally arriving at the Trager home, Opie pulled into the driveway and stopped behind Tig's bike, noticing that daddy dearest had left the porch light on for his daughter.

Even if Tig hadn't been home, Opie knew there was no reason to fear for Fawn's safety as a huge dark figure on all fours came at a full gallop from around the back of the house. Barking his head off, Rocco barely gave his mistress a chance to get off the bike before standing on his hind legs to lick her face relentlessly.

"Aw, did my little boy miss me? Yes, you did. _Yes, you did_." Fawn cooed as she struggled to get the helmet off her head. "Sorry, but I don't think he got any slobber on it." She said to Opie as she handed his helmet back.

For a moment, there was a bit of awkward silence between them before Opie spoke up. "That was a really nice dinner. I guess all the gossip I've been hearing around the Clubhouse is true. You actually do know what you're doing in the kitchen."

"What? You think because I'm a city girl that I wouldn't know how to cook?" Fawn challenged.

 _What the hell is wrong with you_ , inner-Fawn scolded. _Why so defensive all of a sudden?_

"Now look who's putting words in _my_ mouth." Opie smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 _Shit! Tina's fuckin' right. One nice evening together and I'm already pushing him away_ , she groused to herself.

"You're right. My bad."

Opie blinked his eyes. Once. Then twice. "Damn, I must be hearing shit," He started. "For a second there I could have sworn I heard the spawn of Trager actually admitting to being wrong."

Fawn let out a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. "I didn't say I was wrong. Not exactly." She shot back. "I, uh, I—oh, I'm going inside."

Turning to stomp down the walkway and up the porch steps, Fawn came to a halt as her inner voice screamed at her. _Hey! Whatever happened to trying to get along with Redwood over there_ _for Ellie's sake? Not to mention ours_!

 _Fine_ , Fawn raged. _Then here's me getting along_.

Storming back down the walkway with a light in her eye, Opie Winston didn't know what hit him when Fawn threw her arms around him and laid a hard kiss on his lips. Or at least it started out that way.

Once Opie opened his mouth and used his tongue to lick and stroke her lips, Fawn followed suit, giving him full access as he pulled her into a tight embrace. With her hands balled up in his silky soft hair and his hands on her ass, Fawn could have kissed Opie all night long. Unfortunately, Rocco had awful timing.

Suddenly, feeling a cold wet tongue not belonging to Fawn lick the back of his neck, Opie nearly choked on the tongue currently wreaking havoc on his senses and sputtered, coming up for air. "What the fuck, Rocco?!"

Pulling out of the biker's embrace, Fawn eyed her rambunctious dog. _Damn it!_

Barely getting her breathing under control, Fawn grabbed a hold of her dog's collar. "There," She huffed. "I had a nice time. Good night."

Watching the woman weave her way up the walkway as she practically dragged her dog, her ass twitching with every step, Opie grinned as he got back on his ride.

_Shit, that woman's gonna be the death of me, but what a way to go!_

* * *

". . . cut the hair like so. See, the layering effect will be much softer and molded to the face. Best of all, this cut flatters just about any face shape." Fawn finished, turning the dummy around to face Lexie.

"Wow, I see what you mean."

At the back of the shop, the two stylists practically had their heads together as they worked on several practice dummies. It was almost nine o'clock on a Friday evening and the shop had long since closed for the day. Instead of hanging out partying like most young women their age, over the last couple of weeks, Fawn and Lexie had taken to staying late after work to practice their craft and learn from each other.

As an only child—and a change-of-life baby to boot—Lexie had spent most of her time growing up in her mother's shop. Now at 34, Lexie loved what she did for a living and had worked hard on cultivating a client base which catered mostly to the younger women of Charming. Although she had tried to do her best to keep up with new trends in the beauty industry, getting her mother to move along with the times had proven nearly impossible.

With Gina so set in her ways, Lexie found herself losing her enthusiasm for the profession, so when the opportunity presented itself to hire Fawn, Lexie pushed her mother until Gina relented. Working with someone closer to her own age and who had a knack for spotting trends before they became mainstream had revitalized her.

Dropping her scissors into the pouch of her coverup, Fawn crossed her arms. "You did a great job on that color for Shawna Williams today. I was secretly cheering you on as you talked her out of the color she originally wanted. That shade would have been a big mistake on her."

Lexie grinned. "I know. She was a tough nut to crack too, but I couldn't let her walk out of here looking all jacked up. Sometimes it's hard getting clients to take my advice, but in the end, it's my reputation that's at stake."

"Absolutely, and you handled it extremely well."

Sitting on a stool, the petite woman shrugged her shoulders, running her hands through her newly short and choppy brown locks with blond highlights. It was a new style that Fawn had designed specifically for her and which she loved. All the positive male attention it attracted her was a big plus too.

"Speaking of my ability to talk people into shit they didn't even know they wanted, maybe I could talk _you_ into something."

Fawn plopped herself down in her station's chair. "Well, you managed getting me to work here, which hadn't been part of my plan for my stay in Charming, so give it shot. I ain't promising shit, though. What's up?"

"How long _are_ you planning on staying in Charming?"

Fawn's eyebrows rose. _That's an interesting question._

It was a question that she found herself contemplating a lot lately. When she had first arrived in town, Fawn's only concern had been her father. Now that Tig was almost 100% recovered and with their relationship getting stronger each day, Fawn needed to set a date for her exit from life in Charming. Her old life was still waiting for her back in Seattle.

Only problem was that Fawn wasn't too sure her old life was what she wanted anymore. Charming and its residents had proven to her that life in a small NorCal town could be a lot more interesting.

 _Especially when you consider a certain outlaw biker, hmm_ , inner-Fawn teased.

Holding on to that thought, Fawn returned to the conversation at hand. "To tell you the truth, I'm not so sure that I'm in a hot rush to go back to Seattle. Charming has managed to really grow on me."

Lexie grinned. "It has a way of doing that. It really is a good place to put down some roots and since your father is already here, staying wouldn't be such a bad idea, would it?"

Fawn cocked an eyebrow. "Where are you going with this, Lex?"

The woman sighed. "Okay, I guess I should just get to the point. Look, my Mom has been doing hair since she was twenty years old. She started off by first renting a chair in this very shop. Eventually, she took over and rented the building and now she owns both the business and the building outright. You work here and I'm sure you can attest to the fact that financially the business is in pretty good shape, but my mom's tired. She'd kill me for telling you, but she won't _ever_ see 60 again."

Fawn smiled. "Hey, your Mom looks great, but I kind of figured that."

Lexie laughed. "Yeah, well don't tell her that. She swears she can still pass for 55. As a matter of fact, she's been 55 for the last twenty years. Anyway, my Dad retired three years ago and he's been nagging my Mom to finally stop working. My uncle and his wife live in a retirement village in Arizona and have been lobbying for my parents to move out there too, but Mom doesn't want to leave me behind to run the shop alone. She did say, however, that she wouldn't hesitate to leave Charming _if_ I had a partner to run it with me."

Fawn blinked. "Me?" She croaked. "You want me for a partner?"

"Hell's yeah, you! You don't see anybody else in here, do ya?" Lexie was almost bouncing with excitement in her chair.

"But what about Mary Ellen? Or Joanie?" Fawn asked weakly.

"Look, the girls are really great stylists and have a lot of experience, but neither of them eats, sleeps, or drinks the business. They don't have what it takes to really see the big picture because the fact is—and don't get me wrong, I really love this place—I don't want to run a _beauty_ _shop_ any more. I want a real _salon._ You know what I'm talking about. I mean, look at this place. It looks like Barbie threw up in here. No one would ever mistake this place for _Flip It_ , would they?" Fawn hesitated as she bit her thumbnail. "Trust me," Lexie assured her. "You won't hurt my feelings. Be completely honest."

Fawn looked at the determined woman sitting across from her. "Alright. I'll be honest. You're right. This place is in no way, shape or form a _salon_."

"Exactly, but it already has at least two things a real salon requires—two people who are invested in what they do, who love it, are willing to put their clients first, and are interested in doing more than just hair. I know we have what it takes to make something totally new out of something old and just this side of pitiful." Lexie explained.

Fawn grinned. "I have to admit, since I first walked in here I could see the potential in this place. I mean, there is so much space that has completely gone to waste for years. You and your Mom have been sitting on a fuckin' goldmine, Lex. You just haven't properly utilized it and made it work for you."

"Please don't stop. Speak to me." Lexie implored.

"Well, to start, aside from Floyd's, you have the only other hair shop in a 50-mile radius. If somebody needs to get their hair done, they could always drive 20 miles south to Modesto or 30 miles north to Stockton. In a town of almost 15,000—a large portion of them women—you have the prime opportunity _and_ location to corner that market." Fawn explained. "You also have a full floor of wasted space upstairs—wasted because you aren't using it to generate more income."

"So what would _you_ do if this place was yours?"

Fawn smiled, leaning back in her chair as she folded her hands behind her head. "Aw shit, you have no idea how many times I've mapped this out in my head. I would definitely start from scratch, completely gutting the first floor and redesigning it to bring it into this century. Nothing too modern or cold. I'd want to keep the atmosphere that you really only find in small town shops—laughter, gossip, comfort—but I would amp up the ambiance, bring in top of the line equipment and add new services to attract more clients to Charming."

"Do you mean, like spa services?" Lexie said hopefully.

"Absolutely. By knocking down some walls, upstairs would be a perfect set up for a spa center. Right now, with only two pedicure and manicure stations, Dixie and Roseanne are always climbing over each other to get shit done and they're always backlogged because we can't accommodate more than two clients at a time. By moving those services upstairs, we could expand that side of the business. Nothing too ambitious at first. Maybe facials, mani-pedis, waxing, eventually branching out into massages, body scrubs and wraps."

"Yeah, but even with the second floor that would still take a lot of space." Lexie countered.

"Yeah, it would. That's why we should consider taking over the vacant store next door." In her excitement, Fawn didn't register her use of the word " _we_ ". Lexie, however, had.

"It would also take a lot of money." Lexie crossed her arms.

"No doubt, but in order to make money, you have to spend it. Wisely, of course. We might not be able to do everything we want all at once, either. The change might have to be gradual and we start by bringing the hair part of the business up to standard. Down the line, we'll slowly add more services and monitor the response."

"Okay, but where would we find the staff needed to run an expanded business?" Lexie mused.

"I can put some feelers out. You'd be surprised at how many stylists I've run into at Beauty World who live in or close to Charming. Most work in salons in Modesto and Stockton, but I'm sure plenty of them wouldn't mind finding work closer to home. They would save a hell of a lot on gas alone, that's for sure." Fawn replied.

Lexie laughed softly. "Wow, Fawn. It sounds like you've really put a lot of thought into this already. So just one question remains. Are you interested?"

Fawn looked at Lexie with wide eyes as she bit her lip. Co-ownership of a business in Charming? The thought scared her, but opening her own salon had been a dream of hers for a long time. "Lexie Dawson," Fawn smiled at her friend. "You've got yourself a new partner."

* * *

Sopping up the remaining pure maple syrup on his plate with the last bit of buckwheat pancakes and spicy turkey sausage, Tig gave a sigh as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "You know this eating healthy shit ain't all that bad. That was really nice, Fawnzy. Not as good as Neeta's chocolate chip pancakes, but still, not bad at all."

"Well, I'm glad you approve." Fawn grinned as she cleared off their plates. "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning. Now that you've let your dick off its chain, you've been staying at the Clubhouse pretty often."

"Yeah, well, I needed to catch up on some sleep so I figured I'd crash here for the night. I was surprised you weren't around though." He said casually.

"Uh, yeah. Ellie and Kenny invited me over for dinner." _Again_. It was the second time in as many weeks that Fawn had spent time with the entire Winston clan and Fawn was really enjoying herself. "I didn't expect to stay out so late. Thanks for feeding Rocco."

"Weren't no shit, but I draw the line at walking your horse."

"So you've said on countless occasions."

Tig picked up the newspaper that was lying on the table. Flipping through it haphazardly, he asked, "So what are you doing today?"

"Me? As soon as I finish up here I'm heading to work. You?" Fawn questioned.

"Yeah, me too. I got some Club business that needs handling." In actuality, Tig was getting back into the swing of things by heading up the assembly of the latest shipment at the Club's warehouse.

"Well, before you leave, Dad, I have something I want to discuss with you." Fawn hesitated before sitting down again across from her father.

 _Oh, shit, she's leaving_ , Tig thought resignedly. He had been expecting this for a while. After all, Fawn had already been in Charming for almost four months. Now that he was better, maybe she felt it was time to go back to living her real life. He knew the time was coming, even as he hoped that she would find a reason to stick around a while longer.

So Tig was totally unprepared for his daughter's next words. "Dad, what do you think about me staying in Charming? Permanently?"

Tig's eyes actually sparkled. "No shit! Are you serious?! I think that's fuckin' great!" The words jumped out of his mouth before he could pull them back.

"Really?" Fawn grinned happily. "I wasn't sure what you would think about it. I know I've been cramping your style a bit—"

"No, no, Fawnzy. Listen, I think it's a great move. I mean, I know this ain't Seattle, but it's a good place to live and, uh, well, we're family and family should stick close together and shit, right?" Tig reached across the table and cupped his daughter's face.

"Yeah," She whispered. "Families do need to stick together." Quickly swiping at her eyes, Fawn straightened up in her chair. "I'm really glad you're good with me sticking around because I'm about to become a Charming business owner." She announced proudly.

"Say what?"

She nodded her head excitedly. "You are looking at the soon-to-be part-owner of Gina's Cut-N-Curl. I'm buying out Gina's interest in the business. Her daughter Lexie and I are going to run it together."

"Fuckin' A, baby girl! That's fantastic." Tig grinned as he reached over to ruffle her hair. "Shit, when did all this happen?"

"Gina, Lexie and I have been discussing it for a couple of weeks now. I've been looking at my finances, coming up with a business plan, and I think I'm finally ready to make the leap. We really think we can make this work, Dad." Fawn said confidently. "It's gonna take a lot of work to revamp the business, but we're both young, healthy, single women who can devote a lot of time into building it up. Right now we've been trying to find the right attorney to help us set up a partnership agreement and to do the transfer of business from Gina to me and Lexie. We're looking for someone smart and trustworthy so it may take a minute."

"No it won't, baby. I got just the right person in mind. I'll put you in touch with the Club's lawyer." Tig assured her.

"The Club has its own lawyer?" Fawn replied cautiously.

"Well, yeah, we do. I mean, just because we're simple Harley enthusiasts doesn't mean that we're not business savvy." Tig grinned wickedly.

"Uh, yeah. Right." She drawled out. "I don't know Dad—"

"Fawnzy, let me tell you something. Jax Teller is not a stupid man and he never does shit half-assed. Besides, the Club has interests in several legit businesses. Believe me, we can get you hooked up right and perfectly legal. Let me get him to set you and your girls up with a meeting and you can discuss it. If it don't work for ya, you can find somebody else."

But Tig knew that Ally Lowen was the right attorney for the job. She had done a great job in setting up the dummy corporation the Club had used in order to buy a second warehouse. _I'll even pay for it myself_ , Tig thought. _Because the_ _quicker Fawnzy gets set up, the less likely she'll be inclined to change her mind and leave._

"Well, okay, then." Fawn smiled. "Now I just need to find a place to live."

"Why?" Tig asked perplexed. "What's wrong with living here?"

"Dad, this is your place—"

"Nah, I live at the Clubhouse, sweetheart. This was just a place for me to crash when I needed to get away from shit. I always meant for this to be your home. Stay, stay here for as long as you need to or want to. You get your business up and running and later, if you really want to get your own place, go ahead. At least, for now, it'll be one less thing you have to think about." Tig assured her. "I promise I won't drop by more than three, four times a week, tops." Fawn flashed him a look like he had just lost his mind. "Hey, you're a great cook. I need a few of your meals to warm my belly every so often."

"What? You finally realized that a man can't live on ass and pussy alone?" Fawn teased.

"He can," Tig shrugged his shoulders. "But with a great kid like you, why would he want to?"


	13. Outlaw Makeover

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The line was so quiet that Fawn wasn't sure whether or not the call had been disconnected. "Tina? Are you still there?"

" _Yes, I'm here." Tina replied sadly. "I'm just a little shocked, that's all."_

Lying on her bed, Fawn had to physically restrain herself from biting her nails. "I know it's a lot to take in—"

" _No, not really, honey. After all, the handwriting was on the wall once you took that job in Charming."_

"Are you really mad at me?"

_Tina suddenly galvanized herself. This isn't about me, she counseled herself. It's about Fawn. "No, girl. I'm not mad. In fact, I think it's a really good thing that you're staying in Charming. It's where your father is and he's your family. I'd be a pretty selfish bitch if I couldn't understand you wanting to keep your newly-healed relationship with him on solid ground. It's just that," Tina suddenly teared up. "You're not just my friend, Fawn. You've been like a daughter to me and Frank. California isn't Seattle and I'm gonna miss you."_

Fawn swiped at her eyes to dash away the tears. "I know. This isn't easy for me either. You're the only part of my life in Seattle that I regret leaving behind, but it's not like you can't visit my ass. It's barely a two hour flight. We can visit each other and e-mail and if I can get Juice to help me figure out how to do this Skype shit, we can see each other all the time."

" _I know. I'm sorry. Just give me a minute to stop wallowing in my own shit." After blowing her nose several times, it was a more positive woman who resumed the conversation. "Well, despite losing you, I have to tell you how proud I am of you. Starting your own salon? That's something you've always talked about. You must be so excited."_

"To tell you the truth, I'm a little terrified." Fawn replied. "I'm confident about my skills with a pair of scissors, but running a business will be something completely new for me. Instead of doing someone else's bidding, I'll be calling the shots on something that's mine and that I plan on investing all of savings into."

" _Don't doubt yourself, Fawn." Tina assured her. "I know how determined you are. You're also extremely smart and well-organized. You ran the set-up for Flip It for last three hair shows all on your own. All Sasha had to do was show up and take all the credit. I know you're going to make a success of this. You just need to take five, relax and put yourself in that head space where nothing can stand in your way—"_

"Oh my Gawd!" Fawn nearly screamed. "THAT'S IT!"

" _Girl, what the fuck's going on?! You're scaring the shit out of me! What's 'it'?!"_

"The name of the salon, _Take Five_!" Fawn enthused. "Lexie and I have been brainstorming for weeks about what to call the new salon. It's perfect because every woman needs to 'take five' for themselves—setting aside kids, work, significant others—to relax and re-energize by treating themselves to the pampering they really deserve. It's exactly what we've been looking for, all thanks to you."

_Tina let loose a loud laugh. "I'm sure glad I'm good for something."_

Feeling sentimental again, Fawn sighed. "Tina, you're good for so many things. You helped me through so much shit in the beginning. From the moment I first started working at _Flip It_ , you took me under your wing. You're my _best_ friend."

" _Aw, sweetheart, you're mine, too. Shit, you were there for me when Frank got sick. There was no way I would have made it through that dark time without you. When he died, I didn't know if I wanted to keep going without him. He was the first and only man I ever, really truly loved. He helped me see that I was redeemable in spite of all the crap I had done in the past. When I put him in the ground, it really hit me hard that my family was gone. I guess that's why I nagged you as much as I did because family is the most important thing in the world. You need to treasure it, never let it go. And now that you're staying in Charming, maybe this new business you've got going shouldn't be the only new relationship you tackle."_

Fawn twisted up her mouth. She was about to firmly deny the possibility of any such thing happening when her inner-Fawn spoke up for her. "Yeah, I think you're right."

* * *

" _You are making a_ _huge_ _mistake," Colleen warned. "I knew you going to Charming was going to turn to shit."_

"Really?" Fawn derided. "Why am I not surprised?"

Fawn was on the verge of pulling her hair out by the roots. It shouldn't have come as a surprise that the most important conversation she would ever have with her mother was going just as she expected. Badly, and quickly going downhill from there.

When Fawn first arrived in California, communication between the Trager women had been consistently regular. As Fawn continued to find reasons to extend her stay in the small town, however, her mother's calls had bordered on sporadic until they dropped off completely. Lately, the only time Fawn heard from her mother was when she picked up the phone and called her, which Fawn admitted to herself had been happening less and less.

Now, after having put it off as long as she could, Fawn had finally called Colleen to break the news that she was permanently relocating to Charming and starting her own business.

Instead of being happy for her youngest daughter and wishing her all the best, Colleen was _not_ taking the news very well at all. And did absolutely nothing to disguise that fact.

" _Shit, Fawn. As if it wasn't bad enough that you refused to go Oregon State like I wanted—"_

"Yeah, Mom, like _YOU_ wanted—" Fawn retorted.

" _You end up going to cosmetology school instead." Colleen spit out as if the mere statement left a bad taste in her mouth. "By some miracle, though, you manage to make a decent living in Seattle working on the rich and famous. NOW you decide that you wanna throw all of that away to start a little shop in the same hick town your father tried to drag us off to." She said sarcastically._

Fawn's fiery temper, something she received from both of her parents, suddenly blew.

"Charming might be a hick town and my salon may be just a 'little shop' to you, but fortunately for me, my life and what I choose to do with it are not up for a vote, so you really don't get a say in the matter!" Fawn said angrily. "Shit, Mom. I'm so upset right now, I'm actually shaking," She said as she looked at her free hand trembling uncontrollably. "And I have no one to blame but myself because I should have known better than to expect that you would actually be happy about something that didn't involve Dawn!"

_Colleen let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't change the subject, Fawn. Don't you realize how difficult it will be starting up a new business in a small town like that? Your chances of success might be greater in a place like Seattle, where you can trade off on your work at that posh salon. But this is Charming! You'll end up broke and out of business in six months."_

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom. I always knew I could count on you." Fawn said sarcastically.

" _Fine! Since the truth is not what you want to hear, what would you have me say then? You want me to lie and tell you that investing your entire life's savings into this Charming pipe dream is a good idea? That without a proper college education, you will succeed in spite of what the statistics say? Huh? What? Tell me and I'll repeat it if it will make you happy."_

Fawn ran her hand through her hair and fought the urge to cry. "Really, Mom? Am I so much of a fuckin' disappointment that you can't bring yourself to be even just a little happy for me? Did you even bother asking what my plans are? Would it even make a difference to know that my partner and I are taking over a business that has operated successfully for over 30 years? With the business plan we've come up with, after we're done with the renovations, that _little shop_ will be exactly what _I_ have always wanted—a proper salon catering to the needs of over 15,000 residents, a good portion of which are women. I'm not going into this blind. I've done my homework and with our funding already nailed down, all I needed from you was to know that you would be happy for me. Dad certainly is."

And by bringing Tig Trager into the conversation, any hope of turning it around decreased dramatically.

" _I am so not surprised! Your father has you all twisted, doesn't he? He's a charmer, that one, but a snake will always be a snake, Fawn. Don't you forget that." Colleen raged. "This is all his fault. If Alex hadn't given you the money for that damn school, you probably would have come to your senses and gotten yourself a proper education."_

"Jesus Christ, Mom! Could you please just lay off the proper education bullshit? Right or wrong, I have accepted responsibility for every choice I have made in my life. Every lesson I learned has made me into the person I am now. It just kills you that your former drug addict daughter has found peace with herself. Instead of trying to manipulate me into living the life you wanted for yourself, maybe you should come to terms with your own sweetbutt past, accept your mistakes and move on."

" _What the fuck did you just say to me?!"_

Fawn cringed as she pounded a balled up fist on her forehead. _Oh, fuck! Tigger's gonna kill me._

" _Fawn Marie Trager!" Colleen screeched. "What the hell has your father been telling you?!"_

"What the hell does Tig have to do with anything?" Fawn feigned ignorance. "But thanks for confirming my suspicions after finding that picture of you and Dad back in the day. You know which one I'm talking about. The one with you on Dad's bike wearing less than any croweater I've seen to date. Booty shorts and fishnet stockings were pretty much a dead giveaway, Mom."

Not surprised to hear the abrupt click of the call being disconnected, Fawn put her phone down and sighed. "I don't think I could have handled that any worse. Congratulations to me."

Hoping that she had managed to throw her mother off of Tig's scent, Fawn called for Rocco and suddenly found herself being licked up one side and down the other by her excitable pooch.

"Well, at least I know you love me." Fawn grinned. "C'mon, boy. Let's go for a run so I can clear my head. Your mama has a lot of big plans for her new life in Charming."

 _Do those plans include a certain outlaw biker?_ Inner-Fawn asked hopefully.

_Maybe. Lord knows I could use the distraction._

* * *

The news of the planned expansion of Gina's Cut-N-Curl was already making the rounds among the female population of Charming. It was amazing to Fawn just how quickly interest had spread. Everyday, she found herself being approached and congratulated by total strangers for taking over the business with Lexie. All the buzz regarding the renovations and plans for a spa center already had people eager for the grand re-opening.

For almost three weeks, Lexie and Fawn had been working with Ally Lowen, SAMCRO's go-to attorney, to finalize the new limited liability partnership agreement. With Fawn using a hefty portion of her savings to buy her half of the business, she and Lexie were splitting the costs of renovations, which put a major dent in Fawn's finances. As soon as the partnership agreement was signed and filed with the county, the plan to obtain their first business loan was put in motion. Hopefully, they would be able to obtain a large enough loan in order to buy the vacant building next door with enough funds remaining to renovate both spaces. Armed with a solid business plan based on numbers and research, and with the Club's unofficial help in convincing Elliott Oswald to trade on his long-standing business relationship with Charming Savings & Loan, Fawn and Lexie soon had their funds readily available.

It was an ambitious project, but they were off to a great start. Using Britt Adams, Charming's favorite realtor, they were able to negotiate a fair price for the building next door, which had been on the market and bleeding money for a long time. Britt, a chic woman of considerable taste, was overjoyed that Gina's was getting a face lift and had worked quickly to finalize the deal on their behalf.

"It's a good thing you came to see me when you did," Britt started during a lunch meeting with Fawn and Lexie. "Apparently, some start-up development company was interested in the property, but were still in the process of pulling their funding together when you girls made an offer. Besides, the Seller was very happy to sell to locals, keeping the Charming tradition of local businesses owned and operated by locals alive and kicking."

With Gina ready to pick up stakes and relocate with her hubby of over 40 years to the hot and dry temps of Phoenix, Arizona, the girls hosted a big going-away bash at the shop. Now, with the business officially theirs, Fawn and Lexie had their work cut out for them. Not only were they taking on all of Gina's regulars along with their own, but were now solely responsible for the administrative side of running a business, including payroll and dealing with suppliers, as well working to get the salon revamped.

Fawn, who had grown accustomed to spending a lot of time around the Winstons during her down time, found that she now had no time for a social life as she worked 18-, sometimes 20-hour days trying to get all of the proper building and work permits in order, meeting with an architect and a project manager from Oswald Construction, who would be handling the renovations, as well as designing a logo for the shop, while actively screening job applicants.

As busy as she was, Fawn still found the time to keep an eye on her still-recovering father. Although Tig was nearly healed, she continued to worry about him all the time, especially since he had been quick to pick up on old habits, such as drinking and partying in excess. All this worry about his well-being translated into nagging as far as Tig was concerned, which in turn ended up with father and daughter bitching at each other. The fighting stopped only for a brief moment when Tig had given her a check, a gift to show his support of Fawn's new business venture and her new life in Charming.

"This shit ain't no loan, Fawnzy. And I know you're not your sister, so this is not a pay-off either. I just want you to know that I'm here for ya and wanna support ya and shit." He said a little sheepishly.

With tears in her eyes, Fawn wrapped her arms around Tig and hugged him within an inch of his life, showering him with her thanks and kisses. Then she got a good look at the five-figure check and felt her jaw hit the floor.

"Dad, I can't take this," She stammered. "This is a lot of fuckin' money!"

"Yeah you can, Fawnzy, and don't worry. It's perfectly clean." He smiled. "Since you won't let the Club back you up on this, it's just my way of giving you a hand. It's the least I can do."

When her father put it that way, Fawn knew she had to accept. When Tig had shared the news with his brothers about Fawn taking over the shop, Jax had offered to help the newest member of the SAMCRO family by backing a portion of her interest as a silent partner, with his VP in full agreement. Now that it was clear that Fawn was putting down roots in Charming, Opie wanted to keep her as close as possible and under the Club's protection.

But in spite of the generous offer, Fawn had turned the Club down. Even though she was growing to really appreciate her new extended-family with each passing day, the business had to be something she accomplished on her own. The dream of owing her own salon had been a long time in the making and she was reluctant to bring the Club into it. She did, however, accept Juice's offer to help her and Lexie design _Take Five's_ website as well as installing a new computerized set up for booking appointments and processing payments.

Tig had not been happy when Fawn had declined the offer. He felt that in a way she was rejecting him by turning her back on the Club. It had taken a surprising ally to stand up for Fawn to make him see his daughter's way of thinking. As the SAMCRO Queen, Jolene was all too familiar with the need to have something of her own, a reason to get up in the mornings that didn't involve the Club. Jolene had not only given Fawn's plan her stamp of approval, but had managed to talk Tigger out of his feelings of rejection, for which Fawn was extremely grateful to the woman she now considered her mentor in all things SAMCRO.

Now, as Fawn walked another satisfied customer to reception, she was about to find out what it truly meant to be a part of the local business scene as the bell above the door tinkled signaling another client.

Turning around, Fawn was surprised to see Rita Roosevelt.

* * *

Entering the shop with a large cardboard poster under her arm and a beautiful bouquet of summer flowers in a large vase, Rita managed to look chic and cool despite the current heat wave that held most of Northern California in its hot and sweaty grip.

"Whew, I'm so glad I only had to cross the street to get here. This weather is unbelievable." Rita exclaimed said as she placed the vase on top of the reception counter.

"Well, come on in, have a seat and cool off for a bit. You want something cold to drink?" Fawn invited. "You deserve it, especially since I'm hoping that beautiful arrangement will be staying here permanently."

"Cold water sounds fabulous and as I'm using the flowers as a bribe, I have no intention of lugging them back to my shop." Taking the bottle proffered by Ellie, Rita took several long gulps as she sat down in one of the chairs in the small reception area. "You would think I just crossed the desert to get here."

Sitting down next to her, Fawn smiled. "Well, what brings you over to our neck of the woods, and with a bribe no less? And when are you finally gonna let me work on that head of yours?"

"I'm thinking about it. I'm getting real tired of schlepping over to Lodi just to get my hair did. Actually, I came to talk to you about this." Rita flipped up the large sign that she had propped up against her chair.

"Save Charming Gardens." Fawn read. "Is this about the Mayor's plan to close it down?"

Rita nodded. "Yes, I'm working with a committee sponsored by the Charming Preservation Society to try and save it. The land itself was donated to the town back in 1879 as a joint gift by both the Oswald and Hale families to create a public botanical garden in the center of the town."

"And now the Mayor is lobbying to pull it down." Joanie added. "It's a real shame, too. I use to take my kids there all the time when they were little."

"Yeah," Mary Ellen chimed in. "Now Mayor Moneybags wants to rip it down to put up a municipal parking lot. Says it would generate more income for the town."

"If you ask me, I don't believe that blowhard for one minute." The client in Lexie's chair spoke up. "It just reeks of another get-richer-quick scam that will benefit no one other than Jacob Hale himself. He's a greedy bastard."

"So what's the plan for saving the Gardens?" Fawn asked.

"To start, we're planning a series of fundraisers over the next couple of months to culminate in one big event in the late Fall. We need to raise at least $100,000 in order to save the Gardens. The Mayor is claiming that the town's budget can no longer accommodate the upkeep without raising taxes, so we're hoping to raise enough to cover the salaries of the two current ground keepers and its general maintenance."

"What can we do to help?" Fawn asked, eager to lend a hand anyway she could. Losing Charming Gardens would be a shame considering it was one of the reasons the town had enthralled her in the first place.

"You can start by giving me permission to hang this sign in your shop window." Rita smiled, happy to see that she was right about Fawn Trager. As an outsider from the big city herself, Rita thought it was important to show an interest in the well-being of the community she was now calling home.

"What do you think, Lex?" Fawn held up the sign. She didn't have a problem with it, but she wanted to make sure her new partner was on board as well.

"I think it's a great idea. My first date in the seventh grade took me for a walk in the Gardens after catching a movie. I'd hate to see some ugly parking lot take it over." Lexie replied.

"Is there anything else we can do to help?" Fawn asked as she got up to put the sign in the front window by the door.

"Now that you mention it," Rita started hesitantly. "Maybe there is something you can help me with, Fawn. Could you possibly spread the word about our need for help with the fundraisers?"

Fawn looked confused as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Isn't that what the sign's for?"

"No, I mean, we need a chairperson to head the Committee, someone with a lot of experience raising money for charity. I was hoping you could put in a good word for us with one of your connections," Rita explained. "Gemma Teller-Morrow."

Suddenly the shop was silent. "Uh, maybe, but if you don't mind me asking, why Gemma?" Fawn asked.

"I understand that for many years Gemma had chaired the committee for the Taste of Charming festival sponsored by the Chamber of Commerce. As a matter of fact, I heard through the grapevine that Charming Excelsior Prep owes their state of the art football field to her fundraising efforts." Rita replied. "Being that we have to raise a lot of money in such a short period of time, the Committee seems to think that we would benefit from her involvement, but they were all a little reluctant to be the one to approach her."

"I can understand that," Joanie said a little darkly. Seeing the battle light in Fawn's eyes, she decided to keep the rest of her comments to herself.

After the events that had unfolded at the Taste of Charming festival three years before, the Chamber of Commerce had politely asked Gemma to step down as Chair of their fundraising committee. Gemma had been justifiably upset, but after being ordered to let it go by her son, the Club President, she had reluctantly agreed. The festival had resumed after two years had passed, but had not been nearly as successful as in the past under Gemma's leadership. Now, it seemed that the Preservation Society, with many of its members also serving on the Board of Directors of the Chamber of Commerce, was using a back door channel to approach the SAMCRO matriarch about reassuming her position without actually having to eat humble pie.

"So the Committee tasked you with getting her back?" Fawn asked suspiciously, not sure what to make of Rita Roosevelt, the Sheriff's wife, and her sudden interest in Fawn's SAMCRO connections.

"I _am_ the newbie." Rita smiled. "Fortunately for them, I love the Gardens and I will stick my head in the lioness's mouth if it means I'll get what I want. And I don't care who I'll piss off in the process."

"That include the man that signs your husband's paycheck?" Fawn asked in a low voice, referring to Mayor Hale.

"Especially that asshole."

As much as she wanted to find an ulterior motive in Rita's request, Fawn couldn't help but like the woman, in spite of the fact that she was married to the head cheese when it came to law enforcement in Charming.

"Okay, I'll talk to her about it, but it won't be right away. Don't forget, I'm a newbie too." Fawn replied. "If I've learned anything about Gemma it's that I have to use a soft touch when easing her into something she might not like. Give me a couple of weeks?"

Rita's enthusiastic smile brightened up the room. "Done!"

* * *

Sunday afternoon in the nearly-deserted Clubhouse found Fawn shooting pool with the Winston family. Not seeing Fawn outside of the salon for the past couple of weeks had forced Ellie to take matters into her own hands. Forcibly dragging her new boss and friend out of the empty salon where Fawn had been catching up on paperwork, Ellie finally convinced the young woman to take a lunch break. Instead of driving her father's pickup to Nicky's Diner, however, Ellie headed straight for the T-M lot. After enjoying an impromptu lunch at the picnic table, Kenny and Ellie had challenged their father and Fawn to a game of pool and so far the adults were winning.

Fawn straightened up after she sunk a ball in the right corner pocket. "You know, Redwood, you're pretty damn scruffy-looking."

The comment, which came totally out of left field, made the outlaw biker raise his eyebrows as his two children cracked up at his expense. "What's wrong with scruffy-looking?"

"Nothing," Fawn replied as she sauntered past him. "If you _like_ lookin' like a grizzly bear."

"Actually, Aunt Jo calls him Sasquatch." Kenny snarked.

Today was the fourth occasion Fawn had been invited to spend time with Opie and his kids since her first dinner at the Winston home. Over the last few weeks, aside from take-out pizza and Opie's world-famous taco night, the foursome had gone out a couple of times—bowling and hot dogs and a movie night followed with dinner at a popular family restaurant in Lodi.

Opie wasn't really sure how it happened, but he was thoroughly enjoying having Fawn around. Ever since their explosive blowout on the sidewalk in front of the salon and his subsequent non-apology for kissing her—shortly followed by Fawn's guerilla-style good-night kiss after her first visit to his home—they certainly seemed to bicker a lot less. Instead, they were both caught up in a game of cat-and-mouse with a heavy dose of sexy flirting. Unfortunately, his little red-headed mouse was proving quite elusive and difficult to catch.

Opie wasn't one to be easily deterred, however, and when he wasn't fantasizing about ripping her clothes off, he made sure to make the best of any opportunity they got to be alone. Once, he had grabbed her as she came out of a restaurant bathroom on movie night. During their last encounter, their hottest one to date, he had cornered her in his kitchen as she pulled a carton of ice cream out of the freezer, nearly sucking the tongue out of her head as he let his hands do most of the talking as she moaned and whimpered against his mouth. Both times had been blazing hot, but ended with her shoving him aside to return to the kids, leaving him wanting more.

_Fuck!_

As much as he wanted having Fawn all to himself, Opie had to admit that hanging around with Kenny and Ellie had been the ideal icebreaker for him and Tig's crazy spawn. It allowed them to relax around each other in a way that may have been impossible had they let sexual intimacy come first. As much fun as he was having with his kids and the extremely sexy woman, however, it didn't mean that he wouldn't kill for some time between the sheets with her. If anything, it made him want her more. And to an outlaw biker that had women falling all over each other to get to him that was as frustrating as hell, especially when the only woman he was jonesing for seemed hell bent on them taking shit slow.

As he lined up to take his turn after Fawn missed her last shot during his musings, Opie grunted as the woman reached over to give his beard a good tug.

"Ow, woman! Leave me alone while I make this shot. I got to get some money from these kids." Opie complained as he looked over his shoulder at her.

Fawn had her arms crossed underneath her chest, revealing just a tad bit of cleavage. "You know, I have absolutely no idea what you look like without your beard."

Opie sighed as he straightened up. "I guess you're not gonna let me take this shot until you've had your say about my grooming, huh?"

Fawn shook her head slowly, a sweet grin on her face.

"Well, then, let's solve that issue right now." He replied as he set his pool cue down. With his children on their heels, Opie grabbed Fawn by the hand and pulled her over to the wall of mug shots, proudly pointing out his framed picture.

Looking from the mug shot to Opie, Fawn flashed him a suspicious look. "That is not you." She argued.

To which Opie responded, "Look again."

Leaning in to take a better look, Fawn's mouth fell open. "Oh my Gawd! That is you!" She marveled. "You have such a fuckin' baby face. No wonder you grew that hairy mess on your chin."

Kenny let out a loud hoot. "Sadly, Dad wasn't as fortunate as me in acquiring his manly good looks at an early age." He winked at Fawn, flashing a brilliant smile. "You might want to reconsider while I'm still up for grabs."

"Puh-lease! Not only does Fawn have better taste, but she has way better sense than the croweaters and sweetbutts around here. Besides, you're not even a Prospect. Why should she go for bottom shelf when she can have Dad?" Ellie retorted.

Fawn blushed a delicate shade of pink. _Damn, is it that obvious?_

"Hey, how did this conversation suddenly become about you?" Opie growled at his son.

"That's right," Fawn turned to face Opie. "We were talking about the state of your facial hair, which is a natural disaster."

"What?! Shows how much you know," The outlaw argued good-naturedly. "It is a proper biker beard. Don't you think so, sweetheart?" Opie wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulders, causing Ellie to squirm a little.

"I love you, Daddy," Ellie started cautiously, prompting Kenny and Fawn to laugh out loud.

"Uh-oh, here it comes." Kenny teased.

"But you don't go to Floyd's nearly as much as you need to and even Mom liked the beard better when you kept it in check." Ellie admonished.

"Floyd the barber?" Fawn asked incredulously, her hands on her hips. "Why go to _Floyd_ when you can come to _me_?"

 _I'll_ _come_ _to you alright, baby_ , Opie grinned at Fawn and somehow she knew that what he was thinking shouldn't be said out loud, especially in front of his kids. _I'll come to you, on ya, all over you. All you have to do is ask_.

Instead, Opie replied, "I wouldn't be caught dead in that pink nightmare, sitting in one of those frou-frou pink glitter chairs. My man card would get revoked ASAP."

"What? Don't you like _pink_?" Fawn challenged suggestively.

Opie licked his lips as he ran his hand over the hair on his chin. "I love _pink_. Just not in my décor."

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Oh my God! Get a room already!" He moaned as he headed back to the pool table.

"Good idea!" Fawn's eyes flashed wickedly. Grabbing hold of one of Opie's meat hooks, she pulled him behind her as she snatched the hobo bag that was lying on the bar top. "C'mon, let's go to your dorm."

Stopping dead in his tracks, he stared down at woman tugging on his hand. "To do what?" _Unless she has something horizontal in mind, I ain't going anywhere_!

"To fix that messy head of yours and attack that unnatural growth on your face. I think it's cancerous." She declared.

Hooting with laughter, Kenny threw his arm around his twin's shoulders as he watched the SAMCRO VP being dragged off. "I sure hope she has more than just a haircut in mind."

Ellie smiled to herself. _Maybe it's about time, too._

* * *

"C'mon now. Sit your ass down." Fawn ordered as she closed the door behind her.

"I don't know, baby," Opie started. "Unless you're getting naked, I don't think this is a good idea."

"Even though it would prolly be a dream come true for ya, I'm not gonna give you a haircut while I'm naked." Fawn replied as she lightly shoved him down on the bed.

Grabbing her by her slender waist, Fawn let out a little yelp as Opie pulled her towards him. Barely able to keep herself from toppling over on him, Fawn smirked as she saw the leer on his face as she almost smothered him with her cleavage.

"A haircut's not what I want." Opie inhaled her powdery, rose scent.

"It's what I want. For now." Fawn pouted prettily. "Consider it foreplay."

Opie let out a frustrated growl. "You're killing me, woman."

Fawn smiled, running her hand over his hair as Opie looked up into her eyes. "Trust me, Redwood," She dropped a soft lingering kiss on his lips. "It's gonna happen, but first, I gotta see what I'm working with underneath that mess."

"Huh?" Opie asked somewhat dazed. "Remind me again why we came back to my dorm all by ourselves. I think I stopped listening the moment you kissed me."

Laughing, Fawn pulled herself out of his embrace. "Take off your kutte."

Grabbing her large hobo bag, Fawn pulled out a black zippered leather case. Stepping into the bathroom, she quickly checked the cabinet above the toilet to see if Opie had what she needed and found shampoo, shaving cream, a clipper, a very old hairdryer and a few other items she would need. The sink, although not a proper shampoo bowl, did have a faucet high enough with an adjustable head to properly direct the spray. Testing it and finding the water pressure excellent, she grinned.

_I can work with this._

Heading back into the room, she dragged a narrow straight-backed chair into the bathroom as she motioned for Opie to follow her.

"What are we doing?" Opie asked apprehensively as he filled out the bathroom's doorway, his arms stretched out above him.

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue. She was so busy taking in the massive frame before her that she forgot what she was up to. She could see the outline of his rock-hard abs through the tight-fitting dark navy t-shirt, its short sleeves reminding her of the cannons he was rocking for arms.

"Um, yeah. You're gonna sit your ass down, leaning as far back as you can on the chair using the back legs. I need to get your whole head in the bowl so I can wash this mess. Then I'm going to cut it before tackling your beard."

"I don't know, Fawnzy." Opie shook his head slowly, his long mane hanging over his shoulders.

Fawn cocked a hip. "My father's the only one that calls me that and do you really want me thinking of my Dad every time you say it?"

Opie grimaced. "Point taken, Big Red."

"Better." Fawn smiled saucily before exploding. "And what don't you know?! You afraid to trust me with several sharp instruments so close to your head?"

"Depends on which head you're talking about." Opie replied wickedly.

Fawn sighed dramatically. "The one _above_ your belt, Redwood."

Opie shrugged his shoulders. "Worst case scenario, I've always got my hats." Sitting in the chair, Opie watched as Fawn carefully draped a large towel over him before asking him to lean back.

Thoroughly wetting his hair, Fawn placed a large dollop of shampoo in her palm. "Here comes the foreplay I was talking about." She bent over and whispered in his ear before gently massaging the shampoo into the outlaw biker's hair. His hair was rich and thick, a beautiful shade of warm brown with lots of natural red highlights and Fawn had been practically dreaming of this moment since they first met.

Working from the front of his head towards the back, Fawn tenderly massaged his scalp in gentle but firm circles, building up a rich thick lather. With his eyes closed, Opie groaned out loud as Fawn's long fingers stroked his head.

_Damn, this woman's a witch with those magic fingers!_

As she continued to alternate between lightly rubbing and stroking his scalp, using the pads of her fingers and the tips her nails, Fawn nearly groaned out loud herself. She never had to do her own shampooing at _Flip It_ , so it had taken her a minute to get back into the groove of doing them at Gina's. She had, however, worked as a shampoo girl for two years before Sasha would give her a chair and she more than remembered how to give a good shampoo, especially one that felt more like massage. The last thing Fawn should have been doing was heating Opie up any more than she already had, but losing herself in the sensations, she found herself prolonging the activity as she felt her nipples tighten.

Opie opened his eyes and almost came in his pants. Not only were her magnificent tits biting distance from his face, but Fawn had a dreamy look in her half-hooded eyes as she sucked on her pillowy bottom lip.

"This is torture." Opie moaned, reveling in the sweet agony of Fawn washing his hair.

"I'm almost done."

"Keep it up and I will be, too." Opie smiled, grateful that the extra-large towel covered his lap as he tried to get himself under control.

"Aren't you lucky? The best damn head massage you'll ever have in your life _and_ a happy ending, no charge." Fawn teased.

Finally deciding to bring this mutual torture session to an end, she rinsed his hair. Of course the man had no conditioner, but she did have a travel-size bottle of mousse in her bag, so that would have to do.

Towel drying his hair, she smiled as she noted the lazy grin on his face. "You're welcome. Now follow me."

"Uh, give me a minute, baby." Opie winked at her. "Standing up might hurt right now."

Rolling her eyes, Fawn grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the bed. Quickly combing through his wet hair, she pulled out her favorite scissors.

"Whoa! You sure you know what you're doing up there?" Opie pulled away a little.

"Just shut up and let me work."

Working quickly and efficiently, Fawn parted Opie's hair into sections and alternated between using scissors and a razor. In all, she cut about five inches as she layered and shaped his wavy hair, getting rid of all the dead ends. Working a dollop of mousse into his still-damp hair, Fawn plugged in the old hair dryer. Working with a brush in one hand and the dryer in the other, in a matter of minutes, the outlaw's hair was done. Facing him, she took a good look as she walked around in front of him.

_Damn, I do good work. Maybe too good._

Opie raised an eyebrow. "I still have some hair, right?"

"Yes, you do." Fawn bit the inside of her lip. _Fighting the urge to run my fingers through his hair was bad enough before. Now I'm doomed_. "You can tell me what you think in a minute, but first, I have work to do on that beard."

* * *

Kenny was in the process of picking his jaw up off the ground as his sister squealed like a little girl while excitedly jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

"Aw shit," Opie moaned. "I'm getting two different reactions here, Fawn." The fiery redhead, he noticed, was standing close to his side, one of her arms wrapped around his bicep as she looked up at him with what could only be described as "goo goo eyes". "Make that three." Opie smirked.

Snapping out of her trance thanks to the leer on his face, Fawn tore her large pools of ocean blue eyes away from Opie. "So what's the verdict?" Fawn asked with a smile as she turned her attention to the twins.

Kenny scratched the patchy stubble he called a beard as he contemplated his father. "Damn, Dad. You look great." He said admiringly.

Ellie had a wide smile on her face as she bounced on over to her father. Stretching up, she ran a hand through Opie's shoulder length hair, just long enough to pull back in a short stub of a pony tail.

"Fawn, it's awesome." She squealed. "And his beard. It's shaped really nice like Uncle Jax's goatee, but better."

"Actually," Fawn absently reached up and caressed the hair on Opie's face. "It's called a short boxed beard. It really emphasizes the great bone structure of his face."

"Yeah, it's not bad, Big Red. I like it." Opie smiled as he ran his hand over his chin.

Fawn had taken her time first cutting then meticulously shaping his beard down to a close crop with well-defined borders. With the red whiskers limited to the cheeks, upper lip, and extending just an inch or so beneath his chin, Opie's new facial hair gave him a rakish, swashbuckling look. Combined with his new shoulder length cut, he was definitely a whole lot of sexy beast.

"Oh my God! You did his eyebrows too?" Ellie exclaimed, amazed. "They look fantastic."

Realizing that was something only a girl would notice, Kenny was grateful that his sister had been handy to point that out. Nearly bent over with laughter, he nearly howled himself to death. "Did you pluck them or wax them?" Kenny barely managed to get out before succumbing to laughter again.

Opie glared at his son. _Shit, this is gonna be all over the Clubhouse by nightfall._

"Plucked," Fawn replied airily. "I didn't have any hot wax available, but they do look rather nice, don't they? A couple of more weeks and Redwood here would have been sporting a unibrow, and it took long enough because he was giving me hell." What she wanted to say was that he had been moaning like a little bitch, but didn't.

 _Ha_ , Fawn thought. _Looks like I found the cure for my foot-in-mouth disease. Who would have thought it would be Opie Winston?_

"Hey, for the record, you said that shit wouldn't' hurt." Opie said in his defense.

"That's the price you have to pay for looking sexy as hell." Fawn retorted.

Opie grinned. "So you think I look sexy as hell, baby?"

Caught with her libido on full display as she realized she was about to drool, Fawn crossed her arms and stammered. "I—I didn't say that. I mean, you look alright, as far as bikers go."

Liking what he knew he had heard, Opie gave Fawn a quick wink.

"Well, I think he looks better than alright." Ellie said proudly, wrapping her arms around her father's waist as Opie bent to kiss the top of her head.

"Now that he's looking halfway decent, please do something for me I know women everywhere will appreciate." Fawn directed at Ellie.

"What's that?" Ellie replied.

"Burn all his beanies."

"They're hats. I don't wear fuckin' beanies." Opie argued.

"I don't care what they're called. I call them an abomination. You're a hardcore biker, not a Redneck version of a ganga-smoking Rastafarian." Fawn said as Kenny's strangled laughter was now joined by his sister's. Feeling bold, Fawn smiled at Opie. "Besides, you're looking way too hot now for that shit."

 _Aw, damn_ , Fawn chastised herself. _Maybe this makeover wasn't such a good idea._

 _Why_ , inner-Fawn, who had been blessedly silent as of late, asked saucily. _Afraid somebody's gonna snatch him up, like that croweater?_

 _Shut up, bitch!_ Fawn groused to herself. _But yeah, that's exactly what I'm afraid of_.

* * *

It seemed that Fawn's concerns about Opie's makeover were quite justified. Emily Duncan sat at the bar as she eyed the sexy SAMCRO VP as he leaned over to take his next shot at the pool table.

 _Damn, he has a fine tight ass_ , Emily sighed. _And now, because of Fawn-fuckin'-Trager, everybody can see he has a sexy face and gorgeous hair to go with it_.

Emily watched as four young sweetbutts hovered around the biker as he continued to shoot pool with Chibs and Juice, oblivious to their presence. The Club whores were definitely out in full force and seemed determined to make their feelings known about the newly-made over outlaw in their midst and it was starting to rub the older croweater the wrong way.

Over the years, Emily had worked hard on keeping the other female hang-arounds in line. After all, it had taken her years to work her way up the food chain of patches in the mother charter. Back in the day, there was a point when Emily believed she had a real chance of snagging the Club's then-VP, Jax Teller. He had been entangled with Wendy Case at the time and, even though Emily had been older than Jax by a few years, she had still been young and nubile. With Wendy's head so spun out on crank, Emily had managed a turn between the sheets with the sexy biker. In spite of her and Wendy being close friends, Emily had taken advantage of the former-croweater's addiction and didn't waste an opportunity to crawl into bed with her husband. As far as she knew, Wendy either didn't know or didn't care. Meth had always been her one and only true love.

However, just when she thought it might be possible to displace Wendy from her throne, the Cara Cara It Girl Ima Tite had appeared on the scene. The young porn star had bullied her way into the Clubhouse and had managed, with her pussy-for-hire posse, to scare away almost all the other veteran croweaters, including Emily herself. Ima's reign had been short-lived, however, ending when Jax and Opie were sent to Chino to do short-time. Thinking she could slide right back into the number one spot once Jax got out of prison, Ima hadn't counted on Jolene Teller returning to Charming and reclaiming the affections of her old man.

With the pussy hound that had been Jax Teller officially off the market, Emily had switched gears and had tried worming her way into the heart of any other willing patch available. But, as bikers tend to do, they all came and went without so much as a look back. Convinced her luck was changing for the better, Emily didn't hesitate in using the death of Donna Winston to her advantage. Much like she had used a drug-addicted wife to get closer to Jax Teller, Emily worked her way into Opie's orbit by using his need for comfort during a time of great grief. After all, he was quite possibly her last shot of ever making the transition from Club whore to old lady, something that she wanted so very badly.

But now, with Tig's kid in the picture, things were looking bleak. Emily had hoped that eventually the girl would get tired of life in a small town and head back to Seattle once her father had recovered. But according to the Croweater Gossip Mill, the young woman was in the process of permanently setting up a home base in Charming. After seeing Opie Winston sniffing around Fawn Trager for the past few weeks, news that Tigger's kid was staying for good meant that any hope Emily had of hooking up with Opie permanently was as good as gone.

 _But the bitch isn't sporting a crow tat yet_ , Emily thought grimly. _All that means is that I'm gonna have to try harder._

Setting her half-finished bottle of beer down, she signaled to the Prospect behind the bar to pour her a three finger shot of Opie's favorite beverage.

 _I think its time to school these bitches on what it means to be the head croweater-in-charge_ , Emily smirked. _I always get my choice when it comes to the patches._

But as Emily headed towards the pool table, she suddenly found an arm draped around her shoulders. Looking up into the perfectly sinful blue eyes of the SAMCRO President, her breath caught in her throat.

"Uh, hey, Jax." She smiled. "What can I do for ya?"

_Please ask me to drop my panties. Despite having my eye on Opie, I'd definitely make an exception in your case. A beat down from your old lady would be so worth it._

"Well, its not what you can do for me, doll, but what you can do for my fine brother here." Jax drawled as he gave the woman a slow wink. "He's been talking my ear off about finding some warm and willing comfort and he won't be happy until he has the fine hand of one Emily Duncan." Turning his head, the SAMCRO President called out to one of his brothers. "Hey Quinn, look who's here. I told you she wouldn't miss a party at the Clubhouse."

Emily's eyes widened as Raine Quinn, the President of the Nomad charter, walked over to greet them. The croweater had hooked up with the Nomad on the few occasions he had stopped by the mother charter over the past year.

Having been quite the hell raiser in his youth, Quinn was considered a laid back and soft spoken man nowadays. As a young man, Quinn had loved the life of an outlaw biker too much to tie himself down to any one charter. But after 25 years as a Nomad, the last five as President, the tall biker with a mass of graying long brown hair and full beard had managed to quiet his restless spirit. Lately, he had the desire to take things a little easier.

Now pushing 48, the tall, beefy and hairy biker was finding himself spending less time on the road and more time visiting with charters up and down the Pacific West Coast. With the exception of the Reno charter, SAMCRO was known for having the best pussy around. Finding himself in this neck of the woods, Quinn had taken the opportunity to check in with the mother charter, knowing that a good time was always waiting to happen.

Reading the SAMCRO President's request in his eyes, Emily realized that despite her intention of making a move on the Club's VP, right now at least her duties lay elsewhere. Making the best of the situation, Emily smiled engagingly at the tall man as she handed him the drink she had gotten for Opie.

"It's been a long time, Quinn." Emily batted her long eyelashes seductively. "Why don't we find ourselves a quiet table and you can tell me about all the miles you've put on your bike."

Jax nodded in satisfaction as Emily escorted the biker to one of the tables. As was his habit, Jax had spent some time walking around, greeting and talking with his brothers. A keen observer, Jax couldn't help but notice the croweater as she watched his best friend. Emily was easier to read than a book and it was clear by the expression on her face that she was on a big game hunt.

Lately, there seemed to be a lot of progress being made between his best pal and his SAA's kid. After the all out mauling his brother had visited on Fawn in the middle of Main Street, they had been spending a lot of time together. According to his old lady, Jolene was quite impressed with Fawn and her determination to take things slow, especially because Opie's teenage kids were part of the equation. Whatever was going on between those two was obviously working for Opie and Jax didn't want anyone spoiling it for his friend. Once he saw Emily prepare for the kill, the SAMCRO Prez knew he had to move quickly. Hoping that with Quinn occupying her time, the croweater would get distracted from her pursuit of his best friend until it was too late, Jax had pressed his Nomad brother into service, noticing that he didn't even have to twist Quinn's arm to get him to agree.

Filing that bit of Intel away for further examination, Jax watched as his VP did his best to play pool with the current bevy of females all over him. Jax wasn't at all worried about those chicken heads though. For the first time since Donna died, Opie seemed more like his old self and Jax was sure that Tigger's kid was the reason.

It was only a matter of time until those two combustible worlds collided, and when they did, Opie Winston and Fawn Trager would be giving a whole new meaning to the big bang.


	14. After-Church Party

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Lexie-Ann Dawson yawned loud and proud as she let the front door of the shop slam shut behind her. Flicking the light switch by the door to illuminate the shop's interior, she ruefully observed the bright neon pink walls with hot pink chairs with glittering rhinestones on the arms and backs and the rose-colored faux marble floors.

 _Damn, Fawn was right. There_ _is_ _a hell of a lot of pink in here, but not for much longer_ , the young woman smiled with great satisfaction.

Placing her handbag in its usual spot underneath her workstation, Lexie took a good look around. Starting today, everything was going to change.

The summer was already half over, but over the last six weeks she and her new business partner had really put the pedal to the metal. Having sealed their legal partnership and put all of their renovation plans in motion, their construction team from Oswald's outfit would break ground today. It would take nearly 2½ months to complete the construction and renovations that would turn the shop into the salon that Lexie had always hoped she would someday own, but now that she had a feisty go-getter as a partner, she knew it would happen.

It wasn't going to be easy, especially since the construction would be going on as they continued to conduct business. Instead of having the work done after-hours, the two women decided to make the sacrifice of working around the mess of construction to not only keep their costs down as low as possible, but to keep their staff earning a paycheck.

Realizing that she would probably need a steady supply of coffee just to make it through the morning, Lexie headed to the back of the shop to start a pot when the tinkle of the bell above the door stopped her in her tracks. She groaned to herself as she looked at her wristwatch. Walk-ins were always welcomed, but not a full hour before the shop was officially opened for business. And especially not without some caffeine pumping through her veins.

Turning around to greet their early-bird customer, Lexie stopped abruptly as she noted a tall man standing at the reception desk. Very slender and in an expensive suit that was well-tailored to fit his almost too-narrow frame, the man had a head of wavy blond hair and dark brown eyes in a thin and elongated face sporting horn-rimmed glasses. Lexie noted his perfectly trimmed moustache as well as his rather effeminate hands with buffed and polished nails, a clear indicator that he was a man that had more than likely never done a day of manual labor in his life.

"May I help you?" Lexie asked cordially.

When the man's smiled, his face became somewhat engaging, showing a perfect set of white teeth as he spoke pleasantly. "You may. That is, if you happen to be the business owner, Ms. Lexie Dawson."

"Yes, that's me." Lexie replied. "And may I ask who you are?"

Reaching into his breast pocket, the man pulled out a fancy silver case. Opening it, he retrieved a business card and handed it to her. "My name is Don Forsyth, Ms. Dawson. I would like to offer my apologies for showing up without making an appointment—"

"Really? You came to Charming from," Lexie eyed the card in her hand. "Stockton for salon services?"

"Oh, no, no." The man laughed amusedly. "Although I am a firm believer in proper grooming, getting some work done is not what brings me here today." Clearing his throat he continued. "I have actually been out of town for over a month on business elsewhere and only recently returned to Stockton to hear about your upcoming expansion."

Lexie raised an arched eyebrow. "You heard about my salon in Stockton?"

"That's right. You see, I work for a fairly new real estate development corporation out of Stockton and we have been working to redevelop a number of smaller properties throughout the Sanwa area and Charming happens to be one of our new focal points. Our mission is to develop and boost the economy in the smaller towns in Sanwa County and we see much opportunity for expansion, especially in this area of Main Street. We understand that you recently took ownership of this business."

"That's right. My mother, the previous owner, retired and left the business to me."

"That is exactly why I wanted to approach you on behalf of my corporation. In fact, we're also interested in the building next door, which we understand you also recently purchased."

 _Why am I getting a not so good feeling about this guy_ , Lexie wondered. Keeping her face set in neutral, she nodded. "That's right. The plan is to expand this business into the space next door."

"Well, you should certainly be commended for tackling such an ambitious undertaking, but—"

"But what?" Lexie folded her arms under her chest, an unknowing frown crossing her features.

"But, Ms. Dawson, if I may be so bold, realistically speaking, this is a tough time for even the most savvy of entrepreneurs to try and revamp and expand a business. Needless to say, the failure rate for first time business owners is at an all-time high, especially in this economy. That's why I'm here. I've been asked to talk to you about making an offer."

"An offer for what?"

"An offer to buy you out."

* * *

"He said what?" Fawn asked perplexed, both hands on her hips.

"I think you heard me the first time." Lexie said as she sipped her coffee.

The two women were at the back of the shop having managed to get the fussy and ancient coffee pot working. Lexie figured that it was probably best to break the news of their early morning visitor to Fawn _before_ she picked up her cup of coffee from the counter.

"Although, now that I think about it, I pretty much had the same reaction too when he sprung that shit on me." Lexie replied. Digging into the pocket of her summer weight Capri jeans, she pulled out Don Forsyth's business card and handed it to Fawn. "Check it out."

"Donald J. Forsyth, Vice President of Acquisitions, Boland-Howard Economic Development Corporation." Fawn murmured under her breath. "Have you ever heard of this company before today?"

"Nope, but it's not surprising. He said that it's a fairly new company whose aim is to redevelop small business venues." She paused. "I don't know how small he thinks we are, but you won't believe the offer he made."

"What?" Fawn asked. As her business partner dropped the number on her, Fawn rolled her eyes. "Is he fuckin' delusional?"

"That's what I told him. Well, not in those words. After all, I am the nice one." Lexie grinned, trying to diffuse her friend's ire. "I basically told him without saying as much that I had not fallen off the turnip truck yesterday. The price he was offering barely covered the price we paid for the new building, never mind this one."

Fawn sat down in her station's chair. "He sure doesn't sound really serious about buying us out, throwing out a lowball figure like that, right? I mean, he has to know that we're well aware of the value of both properties."

Lexie sucked her teeth and shook her head. "He was polite and all, but he sure came across like a jerkass who doesn't believe that a woman could have a head for business. In any event, I emphatically told him that his offer was too little, too late and that we weren't interested anyway because we were breaking ground today on the renovation. I could tell he wasn't too happy, but he still managed to be gracious about it. He wished us well in the business, but said that if something should change somewhere down the road, we should give him a call."

Fawn wrinkled her brow as she looked at the card again. "Well, hopefully Donald J. Forsyth got the message loud and clear." Opening one of the drawers of her workstation, she tossed the offending business card inside and slammed it shut. "Enough of that shit. With Oswald's crew starting today, we've got bigger and better things to focus on, partner."

* * *

Instead of their usual spot at the picnic table, it was another blazingly hot day that forced the Sons to hole up in the cool air-conditioned Clubhouse for their mid-afternoon break. Sprawled out on chairs around tables and on the couches, several patches sat back, cracked open some cold beers and ate the food delivered by one of the Prospects from Nicky's Diner.

Opie was sitting at a table with Chibs and Bobby when the Clubhouse door swung open. With the glare from the sun streaming in from the outside, it was difficult to see at first, but there was no mistaking the click clack of high heels as they made their way across the hardwood floor. As the figure finally cleared the sunlight, Opie grinned as Fawn Trager bounced her way towards them.

"Well look who's come to see me." Opie murmured to his companions.

"In yer dreams, brutha." Chibs chortled. "She's come to see her one true love—that is—her partner-in-baking-crime," He nodded towards Bobby. "For look, the beautiful lassie has come bearin' gifts."

It was a reasonable observation as Fawn had a large aluminum pan in her hands. Dressed in a bright yellow sundress which stopped just above her knees and a pair of strappy heeled sandals, Fawn made a pretty picture as she bent over to kiss the rosy cheek of the heavy-set biker. "And how's my favorite Elvis impersonator?"

"A lot better now that you're here, Fawn honey," Bobby replied roguishly. "Especially if my nose is not deceiving me."

"It's not." She grinned. "I took a quick break from work to bring you a loaf each of my pound cake, zucchini bread and cinnamon-swirl raisin bread—all organic. I thought they would go nice with some of your awesome coffee."

"Fawn, you're a woman after my own heart. Sometimes, I still can't believe you came from Tigger's loins." Standing up, Bobby took the aluminum pan filled with the freshly-baked goods. "I'm gonna go slice some of this up and get us some coffee to go with it while you have a seat." Poking a finger at his brother, Bobby eyed him. "And you be nice."

"I'm always fuckin' nice." Opie argued in a mock gruff tone.

"Yeah, and sometimes you're naughty, too." Fawn said with a teasing glint in her eye.

"Well, that's mah cue cuz it seems tae' me dat two's company, but three's a damn near crowd." Standing up, Chibs gave the younger woman's arm a gentle squeeze. "Ta now, lassie."

"Ta!" Fawn sat down and watched as Chibs and the other patches headed outside, suddenly leaving her alone with the outlaw biker. "Why do I feel like I've just been abandoned in the woods to face off with the big bad wolf?"

Opie grinned as he reached for her across the table and planted a sweet kiss on her rosy lips. With her hair pulled up into a loose top knot—Fawn's way of keeping cool during the long, hot summer—she looked as pretty as a picture, even though he did miss seeing her hair trailing over her shoulders and down her back. Seeing the beautiful rose tattoo at the base of her throat up close, Opie inwardly groaned as he noted parts of the vine where more roses grew disappearing beneath the V-neck of her dress.

 _Damn, when am I going to see that shit in its full glory_ , he thought. _This little dance between us is driving me a little bat-shit crazy._

The beautician and the biker had found themselves falling into a sort of routine over the last month. With Ellie befriended by and working for Fawn, Opie didn't miss an opportunity to spend more time with the sexy woman under the cover of "family time" with his kids. Every chance they got, however, found them making out like a couple of horny teenagers trying to keep shit on the down low from their parents. Now that they both seemed to be on the same page about their feelings for each other, in Opie's mind at least, it was time to put the woman he had been fighting with and chasing after under his protection, especially since it was official that Fawn was staying in Charming. As much as he loved his kids, he was tired of using them as a way of spending time with Fawn. He wanted the crazy woman all to himself.

 _It's time to reel her fine ass in_ , Opie grinned.

"You seem to be in a pretty good mood today." Fawn's eyes, Opie noticed, sparkled when she smiled at him. "What's the grin for?"

"I was just thinking that it's about time." Opie drawled, the nail of his index finger picking away at the label on his empty beer bottle.

"Time for what?" Fawn cocked her head.

"Time for someone to pop your cherry, little girl."

Fawn's eyes danced over his handsome face as she looked at the flirtatious biker. "Uh, Redwood, I'm sorry to break it to ya, but you're about 13 years too late for that shit."

 _Damn shame, too_ , inner-Fawn lamented.

As Opie let out a bark of laughter, Fawn grinned. She didn't know what surprised her most lately, the fact that the formerly taciturn man could laugh or that he seemed to do so a lot more on the regular now that they were getting along so much better.

Whatever the reason, she liked that sexy laugh a whole lot, too.

Opie managed to catch his breath. "That prolly would have been awesome, baby, but I was thinking more in line that it's finally time for you to come to your first after-Church party tonight." The SAMCRO VP managed to hold back another snort of laughter as he watched her eyes widen in horror.

"What? Oh, I don't know, Ope."

Smiling at what was probably the first time Fawn had ever used his shortened nickname, he reached out with a burly hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't tell me that the spawn of Trager is afraid of hanging out with a bunch of rowdy bikers."

"Shit, no!" Fawn retorted instantly. "I've hung out with you scumbags before." She said cheekily.

"A couple of family dinners don't count. That action's pretty tame, but at a Friday night party at the Clubhouse, you'd get to see us in all our rowdy, raunchy glory. That is, if you can handle not having my kids around as a security blanket." Opie challenged, a teasing glint in his dark green eyes.

As Fawn's eyes suddenly blazed in her head, the outlaw biker knew he had her right where he wanted her. "I don't hide behind your kids! I'm a grown ass woman and I can handle myself. I don't need chaperones on a fuckin' date."

"Technically, I don't recall saying that tonight would be a date, but a'ight. Since you're asking, I accept." Opie replied as he got up to head back to work. "The party don't jump off until about 10:00, so don't be late."

Fawn watched as Opie walked away. "Oh, I'll be late," She said under her breath as Bobby headed towards her with a plate of her pastries and coffee in hand.

 _And worth every minute I keep your ass watching out for me_.

* * *

It was just past 11:00 when Fawn Trager pulled her Buick through the gates of the T-M lot. If she had never been in Charming before today, finding the place where the party people were at would have not been a problem.

 _Damn, I think I heard the music from at least half a mile away_.

The loud music mixed with the scent of cigarettes, weed, and alcohol and the stench of grilled meat assailed both Fawn's nostrils and ears as she made her way into a narrow parking spot. Looking through her open window, Fawn could see the frantic activity of some of the partygoers, a black sea of kuttes from several different charters, a huge assortment of scantily-clad women, as well as a number of women who had on substantially more clothing, which she believed were old ladies. There were large barrels scattered around the lot—some with roaring fires, which made no sense to her in the dead heat of summer, and others with iced drinks of all types. Meanwhile, in the ring, it looked as if the scary menacing bare-chested and heavily-tattooed bald biker everyone called Happy was beating the snot out of another similarly undressed man.

Nearly swallowing her tongue in appreciation of all the brawny man-flesh on display, Fawn grabbed her party bag sitting on the front seat and got out of the car, slamming it shut. As she headed towards the Clubhouse, she could practically feel the hard stares of several patches and hang-arounds as they did their best to strip her down to her birthday suit in admiration.

 _Not that I'm wearing much to strip off_ , Fawn bit her lip. _Maybe I should have worn a tad bit more clothes because I might be straddling the thin line between sexy and slutty_.

 _Naw girl, you're good. Time to bait that hook and reel that Redwood in_ , inner-Fawn informed her gleefully. _With this get up, Opie is gonna have to stay glued to your side all night long to keep the dogs at bay_.

 _Hey, that's sounds like a pretty good plan_ , Fawn concluded with a smile _._

* * *

Opie never thought of himself as a clock watcher, but as 10:00 slowly gave way to 10:15, 10:30 and 10:45, he was feeling several parts anxious, mad, and disappointed all at the same time, wondering where the fuck was his date.

_My date. I can't believe I said that shit even in my own damn head._

Nonetheless, this would be the first time that he would really get Fawn all to himself, but as he noted his lovable but rowdy brothers, the VP was starting to question the wisdom of bringing Fawn in like a sheep among a bunch of horny biker wolves. He recalled how anxious he had been the night of Jolene's 18th birthday party when Donna had deliberately ditched him to wander around on her own.

He would really hate to have to fuck up one of his brothers for stepping out of line with Fawn. Hopefully, word that she was Tig's kid had already made its rounds to all the other charters. After all, everyone must have heard of Tig's near brush with death and how his sexy redheaded daughter had shown up to take care of him. Just in case, with so many visiting patches on the lot, now was as good a time as any to make sure everybody knew just whose protection she was under.

_And I ain't talking about her daddy._

All of a sudden, a heavy hand smacked down on the shoulder of his kutte. "Yo, brother, they say a watched pot never boils. You keep watching that door and Fawn will never walk through it." Jax teased as he handed Opie a shot glass filled with amber liquid. "Here, take this. You look like you could use it."

Taking the glass, Opie knocked back the contents before slamming it down on the bar. "It's after 11:00, man. I don't think she's coming." The big man didn't realize just how sorrowful and irritated he sounded, but Jax did and grimaced.

 _Fawn better show up and soon_ , the SAMCRO Prez thought darkly. _Otherwise, I may have to go on a hunt and drag her ass in here, and that won't win me any brownie points with my old lady._

Suddenly, Jax grinned to himself as the Clubhouse door opened. "Looks like she couldn't stay away after all." He drawled.

Looking up, Opie smiled in stunned appreciation as he saw Fawn. And so did every other man in the place.

She was dressed in sexy black from head to toe and looked hot as fuck. The glittery tank top with a rounded neckline showed a creamy expanse of her breasts, which perfectly framed the rose at her throat. Not only did the snug-fitting tank top showcase her amazing rack, but it showed off her well-tone arms as well, one of which sported a thick silver bracelet over the bicep of her upper left arm. The tank top was tucked into a wide leather belt, emphasizing her narrow waist and which sat right above the mini-skirt that stopped only a few inches past her shapely ass. With five-inch strappy heels with laces that went up her calves and more black and silver jewelry, Fawn's hair flowed loosely over her shoulders. Her make-up completed the look, her eyes exotic with just enough black kohl and mascara to frame her dark blue eyes into beautiful iridescent pools of light.

 _Shit!_ Ope grinned in appreciation.

Neither looking to the left or the right, Fawn had her eyes firmly fixed on Opie Winston. Her heart started to beat erratically in her chest as she noted how her nearly four-hour beauty regime had worked its magic. But Opie looked just as good if not better than she did.

His new shoulder length hair was loose and flowing, thankfully not constricted by one of his awful hats. Fawn noticed that he must have gone to Floyd's just after she left the Clubhouse that afternoon for a touch up as his beard was now freshly shaven and looking quite rakish. Wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt over black jeans, steel-toed boots and his kutte, Opie looked every inch of a badass biker.

However, suddenly seeing his eyes darken with what looked like anger, Fawn's heart nearly sunk in her chest.

 _Damn, I haven't even gotten close enough to open my mouth and he's already pissed at me_ , Fawn lamented, thinking she should have put on more clothes _._

An explanation for Opie's sudden attitude became clear as she felt a burly arm wrap itself around her shoulders. "Holy shit, gorgeous! Where have you been all my fuckin' life?"

Fawn looked up to see a surprisingly down right handsome blond spiky-haired patch, who was apparently from the Tacoma chapter, she noted by the patch on his kutte. Shrugging her shoulders, Fawn quickly disengaged herself from the man's grasp as she turned to face him. Hearing the distinctive sound of a charging bull coming in their direction, she tried to do what she could to possibly save the man's life.

"Oh no, cowboy. I don't mean any disrespect, but you need to see with your eyes and not with your hands, unless you don't mind ending up in a pine box."

"Aw, c'mon, darling, you wound me. Besides, as statuesque as you are, I don't think you'd be capable of doing all that."

"Oh, I could and, if pushed, I would, but I won't have to. You see, the SAMCRO SAA probably won't like having his kid manhandled in the middle of his Clubhouse, no matter how much of an outlaw biker he is." Fawn flashed him a grin that left no doubt in the biker's mind as to who her daddy was.

"You're Tiggy's kid?"

"Yup, and, if that's not enough for ya, I think my friend behind me probably won't like you pushing up on me either."

"No I wouldn't." Opie growled, placing a large and heavy hand around Fawn's waist as he clamped her down against his side.

"Ah shit, Ope. I'm sorry, brother," Herman Kozik put his hands up in the air in surrender. "My bad."

"You need to direct your apologies to her." Opie glowered at the Tacoma Sergeant-At-Arms.

"Sorry, my mistake. I think I'm gonna go grab a beer." Kozik turned on his heel and headed for the exit.

"You do that, bro." Opie called out after him.

Looking up at Opie's pissed-off countenance, Fawn had to admit it was something of a real turn on to see him acting all possessive and shit. _Now that every patch had witnessed Opie practically beating his chest like Tarzan_ , she thought happily, _I should be safe for the rest of the night_.

The tingle in her nether regions, however, wore off mighty fast as she found herself being dragged in the direction of the pool table.

"Damn it, Fawn! Don't you have like a hoodie or something in the car you can throw on?"

"A hoodie? What for? It's 90 degrees outside."

"You need something to cover your ass up." Opie retorted. "The second you bend over, everybody's gonna get to see Christmas in July."

"Nobody's gonna see shit, baby," Fawn reached up and caressed his face affectionately. "Unlike those nasty heifers outside, I don't go commando when I'm wearing a mini-skirt, okay?" Seeing the big man's shoulders relax, Fawn waited a beat and said, "All anyone will see is my thong, so no real worries." Turning around as his mouth dropped open, Fawn reached over to air-kiss a snorting Jolene. "Hey, did you guys get to enjoy the show?"

"It was awesome, especially seeing Sasquatch stomping across the Clubhouse to come to your rescue." Jolene laughed. "I forgot that you could move that damn fast, Ope."

"Leave him alone, Jo." Jax said sympathetically. "I've been there, done that and have a number of fuckin' t-shirts to prove it because of you pulling that same shit on me."

"Me?" Jolene nearly yelped. "What the fuck did I ever do to you?"

"Oh I don't know, how about you—back in the day _before_ you were legal—sashaying your ass round the T-M lot in your school uniform in an attempt to get Jax here under lock and key?" Opie crossed his arms as he eyed his PITA sister. "It's a miracle Jax never killed another brother for looking too hard or get himself killed by your daddy for eye-fucking ya every time you came trolloping around here wearing that get up."

"You know, I'm really starting to like you, Jolene." Fawn smiled. "Nice to know that even at a young age, you knew what you wanted and what to do to get it. I bet he was being uncooperative, wasn't he?"

"Hell's yeah! If I had a dollar for all the excuses Jax gave me why we shouldn't be together, I could have paid my own way through college." Jolene retorted.

"And on that note, why don't we just play some fuckin' pool?" Jax said in a deadpan voice.

* * *

Jax and Jolene stood on the opposite side of the pool table watching as Opie, supposedly to help Fawn with her game, wrapped his beefy arms around her to show her the proper way to handle a cue stick.

"Shit, Jax. This kind of feels like déjà vu all over again." Jolene smiled a little wistfully as she watched the heavy flirting between her brother and Fawn.

"Yeah, darlin'. I know, but I think Donna would really like her."

Jolene managed to blink rapidly to put a hold on some unexpected tears. _My old man knows me too fuckin' well some times_. "You really think so, baby?"

"Yeah, I do. Anyone who has taken to Ellie the way Fawn has, looked out for her and taken her under her wing, isn't just interested in Ope for Ope. She cares about his kids, too." Nodding his head to the left, the SAMCRO Prez smiled. "Especially that one over here. Hey, shithead! Brings us some refills."

After taking the shot, Opie grimaced as Fawn stood up, her backside having been snugly pressed into his crotch. "Oh good. I'm thirsty."

"So am I, but not for a fuckin' drink." He murmured in her ear, taking a quick nip against her throat.

Fawn grinned as she felt every inch of her break out in gooseflesh. "You should have a Rose's Lime and soda. It'll cool you off."

"Maybe if a certain flame-haired siren hadn't been deliberately pressing her fine ass into my crotch all night, I wouldn't need cooling off." Opie growled before pressing a hot kiss against her temple.

"Me?" Fawn yelped in mock indignation, making no move to extract herself from Opie's embrace, her back pressed firmly against his powerful chest. "You were the one that bent me over under the pretext of showing me how to hit an 8-ball. Now if something's all stiff and swollen on ya, don't blame me." Fawn turned around to face Opie and saw a familiar-looking Prospect heading over with a tray holding two shots of Jack, one of Patron and an icy non-alcoholic beverage in a tall glass. In the darkness of the Club, it took her a moment realize who it was as he put the tray of drinks down.

"Holy shit!" Fawn literally jumped on the young Prospect, who suddenly found his hands full of an extremely hot woman. "Kenny! I'm so happy for ya, bud!"

Kenny grinned, his eyes in a daze as he found himself being squeezed to death by Fawn. "Shit! Me too, especially now!"

"Hands off, shithead!" His father growled as he tugged on Fawn's hand, finally pulling her out of his son's embrace. "Prospects don't get the privilege of messing with women above their pay grade. Remember that shit."

But Fawn wasn't paying any attention. "When did this happen?" She tugged on Kenny's Prospect kutte.

"Oh, you mean Dirty Harry here?" Jax replied. "Tonight, during Church. Me and Tig are gonna have a real good time breaking his ass in." He practically growled in the general direction of the new Prospect.

Fawn blinked confused. "Who's 'Dirty Harry'?"

"Kenny. Apparently, my old man has seen fit to christen him with a new Club name. Maybe one day we'll get the story on how he came up with it, but for now he's keeping it a secret." Jolene crossed her arms under her chest.

"I can tell ya, Aunt Jo—" Kenny began, but was interrupted.

"Hey! She ain't your 'Aunt Jo' in this Clubhouse, Prospect." Opie barked. "It's Ma'am or nothing. Now get your ass out by the grill and get me a burger. Charred on the outside and red on the inside and get it right. Otherwise, I'm shoving it up your ass." The SAMCRO VP ordered in a voice loud enough to be heard by a number of patches.

"Yes, sir." Kenny mumbled as he headed towards the grill.

As soon as the boy was out of sight, Fawn took a small fist and bounced it off of Opie's meaty shoulder. "Why you gotta be so fuckin' mean? He's your son."

"Exactly," Jolene replied for Opie. "And he can't be seen to show favoritism." She shrugged at Fawn's exasperated look. "It's the Life and its Kenny's lot for the next year or more to get his ass hazed."

"It's screwed the fuck up, that's what it is," Fawn managed to say in a whisper as she saw Opie give her a sideways glance. "But I guess I need to keep my opinion to myself, huh?"

"Yeah, maybe you should." Opie replied under his breath. "What you need to do is put that ass back in my crotch."

* * *

Tig Trager currently had one of his favorite sweetbutts sitting in his lap as he played a round of poker with Clay, Bobby and a couple of other brothers. Sitting at one of the tables opposite the pool table gave him an unobstructed view of his daughter as she played pool with the SAMCRO Prez and his old lady.

And the VP.

Although Tig was thoroughly enjoying himself, he managed to keep his eye on Opie and Fawn, and he wasn't too sure how he felt about what he was seeing.

He was glad that Ope had stepped in when Kozik had attempted to put the moves on his kid. He was about to dump the little sweetbutt on her ass to go handle the little blond prick himself when Clay clamped one of his meat hooks on his arm.

"Cool your jets, brother. I think Fawn's got this."

Sure enough, not only did his kid have it, but Opie stepped in and cleaned it up for her. From then on, there was no doubt that the word had spread on the lot that night that Fawn Trager was under Opie Winston's protection.

And _that_ was what currently had Tig in a slightly pissy mood.

The SAA had made his peace with his brother, but things had never really been the same between the two of them. The death of Donna Winston had radically changed Opie from the man he used to be. Once considered the gentle giant of the mother charter, Opie was the calm, reserved patch who could be counted on to pull his brothers back from the ledge. While Opie wasn't the conscience of the Club, like Bobby, he was steadfast, but was also known to possess a silent rage that when let loose could be lethal in the extreme and would mow down anything or anyone in his path.

 _Ope didn't earn that Men of Mayhem patch by selling Girl Scout cookies_ , the SAA pondered ruefully.

But now that Fawn was staying around permanently, the SAA knew his fellow brothers. Already Tig had heard, by way of Tiki, that a number of patches had already expressed an interest in not only pushing up on Fawn, but putting her under their lock and key. When he heard that she would be attending her first after-Church party, Tig had planned to make it a point of introducing her to everyone, making it very clear that his kid was not a pass-around and was under his protection. But with Opie now basically standing up to everybody and making it known by his actions tonight that he was interested, Tig had to wonder just how did the younger man really feel about his kid.

Until Tig knew for sure, heard it straight from Opie's own mouth what his intentions were concerning Fawn, he was going to keep a very close eye on his VP.

_Cause if he crosses the line and hurts my kid, regardless of our past history and my role in the death of his old lady, Ope's gonna pay for it._

* * *

"Well, it looks like you two are having a good time."

Jolene and Fawn looked up from their laughter to see the SAMCRO matriarch plop down in the chair next to the couch they were lounging on. It was getting late, pushing up on 2:00 in the morning, and the SAMCRO party was raging at full steam ahead and seemed in no danger of stopping any time soon.

"Oh, I don't know about all that," Fawn said as she noted the two croweaters currently working the pole, wrinkling her nose at their enthusiasm and that of the patches shouting encouragement. Both women had been abandoned while the SAMCRO President and his VP did a little networking with the visiting members from other charters. "I haven't partied in years, but it's safe to say that I haven't missed the stench of sweaty ass and pussy common in all nightclubs, house parties and, as I just realized tonight, Clubhouses at all."

Jolene snorted with laughter. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I don't know about y'all, but I could use some fresh air."

The three women headed outside, walking through a crowd of kuttes that parted like the Red Sea for them. After giving a gaggle of croweaters the stink eye, forcing them to scatter like cockroaches, the trio sat down at the now unoccupied picnic table.

"So what do you think about your first after-Church party?" Gemma asked as she lit up a cigarette.

"It's something, that's for sure. Y'all sure know how to party, and the music is good. That charred meat though is nothing like your family dinners." Fawn replied.

"Yeah, well, most in this crowd don't know any better. They have no clue what it means to really be in SAMCRO's inner circle. You know, like you do now." The Dowager Queen said quietly.

"Am I on the inside? I still don't really understand everything about _the Life_ , but I'm trying." Fawn took a sip of her ginger ale. "Sometimes I always feel like I'm waiting for some shoe to drop again when I say something really fucked up and totally out of line."

Jolene grinned. "You're Tigger's kid. That's _always_ going to happen with ya, but when you're family, we learn to forgive and forget and we're always there for each other."

Fawn, not really used to being part of a family, couldn't help but show how truly touched she was by what Jolene had said. "Thanks. That really means a lot to me." She paused. "Since I'm part of the family now, I was wondering if I could bring up something that is somewhat important to me. Actually, it's pretty important for the town, and I'm not sure what the MC world etiquette is on this, but I was approached by someone in town asking for your help, Gemma."

Gemma stubbed out the cigarette she had been smoking. "My help with what?"

"A string of fundraisers to save Charming Gardens sponsored by the town's Preservation Society. A member of the Gold Circle Club asked me to open the way for some dialogue with you about participating." Fawn explained.

"Who's the member?" Jolene asked.

"Rita Roosevelt, the good Sheriff's wife."

"What's that about the Sheriff?" Fawn looked up to see Opie and Jax walking up on the tail end of the conversation.

Fawn suddenly noted the silence of the four individuals around her. "Uh, yeah. I was just telling Gemma. I'm sure you've prolly read in the papers how the Mayor's trying to shut down the Gardens."

"Yeah, our fine and upstanding Mayor seems hell bent on developing every square foot of land in Charming." Jax replied.

"Well, the local preservation committee is working with the Chamber of Commerce to try and stop him by raising enough money to keep the Gardens going. Apparently, they haven't been too successful as of late with their fundraising efforts and they think that Gemma might be what they need to change that."

"Jax, can you believe this shit?" Jolene said with an edge in her voice. "After what they've done to Gem, they now expect her to come crawling back?"

"Uh, somebody want to clue me in here? I'm a little lost." Fawn said weakly. _Damn, please tell me I haven't gone and stirred up some shit._

Jax sighed. "Ma was responsible for raising a lot of money for the town's schools and other public works over the years, but after shit got out of control at a fundraiser a few years ago, the Chamber of Commerce asked her to resign from their charity committees."

"They booted her ass out." Jolene clarified.

Fawn winced. _Shit, that must have been the festival where everything went to shit and Opie lost his wife._

Peeping at Opie, his stone face pretty much confirmed that. "Damn it. I'm sorry for bringing this to you guys. I never would have had I known this was going to be a problem."

"No, darlin'," Gemma patted her hand. "You're not to blame. I guess some of those society bitches they put to task couldn't do shit without me."

"I think you should talk to them, Ma."

"Really, Jax? After the way they treated Gemma?" Jolene asked angrily.

"Yeah, I know, babe. I didn't like it either, but after how things went down, it seemed like the best thing to do was for Ma and SAMCRO to step back a bit. The town had no love for us after what happened and I think we needed to back away for a bit, giving everyone the chance to recover after what happened." Jax explained.

"The fact that they are looking for Ma's help now, shows that maybe the tide is turning in the town." Opie added. "Mayor McCheese has beat what happened into the ground with anyone and everyone. People are starting to realize that they elected a real dud, who is more interested in lining his own pockets than helping the town. Tearing down the Gardens just proves that the town's well-being has never been on his agenda. If SAMCRO steps up and has a hand in helping to save it, it may go a long way in the town coming to appreciate us and what we do for Charming again." Opie advised.

"Ope's right, Ma. I think you should reach out to the Sheriff's wife." Jax said. "Not for nothing, but she's basically giving her husband's boss the finger by not only working against his plans, but coming to you, and essentially the Club, to do it. I think this is something we can work to our advantage."

"All right, if you think so, baby." Gemma acquiesced. "I have to say, I am gonna enjoy making those little bitches squirm a bit before I say yes. And after that, what I say, fuckin' goes."

"That's the kick ass fierce mother bear I know and love." Jax bent over to kiss her on the cheek.

* * *

Having been pulled away from his spot at the bar while Fawn went to use the head, Opie had lost track of the sexy redhead and went outside to smoke a cigarette—and make sure her car was still in the parking lot. Leaning against the wall by the boxing ring, Opie pushed himself up as he saw Fawn exit the Clubhouse.

"Hey," He called out as he noted Fawn's purse hanging on her arm as she headed in the direction of her parked car. "Where you going? It's just getting started in here."

 _And I'm about to bust a nut if you don't follow me to my dorm tonight_.

The two of them were standing in the lot surrounded by patches with very big ears. Fawn sidled up to the brawny biker, wanting to give in to the temptation of wrapping her arms around his neck, but after a night of not being able to keep their hands off of each other, decided against any more PDAs.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a night owl and, normally, I would love to hang out and let you show me a few new moves around that pool table, but it'll be dawn in about an hour or so and I have a wedding party coming in for hair and makeup on the dot of 9:00. I can't be late, Redwood." She said, her hand stroking his chest underneath his kutte.

"Shit, Fawn. Why didn't you tell me that shit sooner? I wanted to spend a little alone time with ya." Forgetting himself, Fawn suddenly found herself in his embrace as he wrapped his burly arms around her waist. Opie finally gave into the temptation that had been calling his name all night long and slipped a hand underneath her mini-skirt. As his hand grazed her bare ass, Opie nearly groaned. "Damn, little girl. You weren't lying about wearing a fuckin' thong, were you?"

Fawn bit the inside of her lip to stop the trapped moan in the back of her throat from bubbling to the surface.

 _You see?!_ Inner-Fawn yelled. _You should have said something earlier. Maybe he would have dragged our ass off to his dorm hours ago, you stupid heifer!_

And Fawn found that she was in total agreement. "Shit, I wish I had said something sooner." Reaching up, she placed a tantalizingly chaste kiss on his soft lips. "I'll make it up to you real soon, okay?"

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Opie smirked. "And Fawn?"

"Yeah?"

"If you're gonna kiss me in public, then kiss me like this." Inhaling the little yelp Fawn let loose, Opie slammed down on her lips and nearly sucked the air out of her lungs. Pulling away, Opie noted with triumph the look of dazed wonder and longing in her smoldering eyes. If the plan was to try and get her to change her mind about leaving, it had almost worked.

Instead, Opie had to drag her as he escorted Fawn to her car and watched in amusement as she fumbled through her little black bag for her car keys. Taking them from her, he opened the car door and let her get inside before slamming it shut and handing her the keys through the open window.

"Good night, Redwood." Fawn said before biting her lip.

"Not likely, baby." He said regretfully.

As he watched her drive off, it took everything he had in him not to hop on his ride and follow her back to Tig's place in order to finish what they had started months ago.

 _Doesn't_ _matter_ , Opie thought, promising himself that tonight would be the last night that would end in extreme sexual frustration for them both. _Once she's mine, Fawn Trager doesn't stand a chance of getting away from me again._

And with the aid of an unwanted third-party, it was gonna happen sooner than either the SAMCRO VP and the SAA's daughter were planning on.

* * *

Emily Duncan was not a happy woman.

It had been a long and dreary week working her day job as a supermarket checkout girl. To top it off, she was forced to take over an unexpected shift by her boss at the family restaurant in Lodi she worked Monday through Thursday nights in as a hostess. Apparently, the stupid bitch that worked weekend nights had called in because her kid was sick with the stomach flu, which meant that Emily would have to put her Friday night plans on temporary hold.

By the time her shift ended at 11:30, Emily had to practically drag herself home. Barely giving herself enough time for a quick shower and a lightning fast change into her party clothes, she jumped into her light blue convertible. Tearing down the highway like a bat out hell, she headed to the SAMCRO Clubhouse for the legendary Friday night after-Church party. She had been so tired from the day's activities that Emily had seriously considered bailing out that evening. But not wanting to leave Opie alone around other croweaters that would circle him like vultures in her absence, she stomped on the gas to reach her destination as quickly as possible. It was a good thing she had, too because had she skipped the party, Emily would have missed the show.

It had been no little shock for Emily when she walked into the Clubhouse looking for Opie and saw Tig's kid dressed to kill, with the mother charter's VP all over her. Even though Emily wasn't the only one who was pissed about the current turn of events, with both the SAMCRO Queens in attendance, each and every croweater and sweetbutt on the lot was minding their p's and q's.

After moving into her father's house on the outskirts of town, over the last several months Fawn Trager had rarely been seen in the Clubhouse. Although spotted on random occasions when she was visiting Bobby Elvis or bringing her car in for service, Fawn had never attended a SAMCRO party. The fact that she had steered clear of blowouts at the Clubhouse meant, as far as Emily was concerned, that the young woman was a non-issue. Emily had assumed that Fawn having no taste for socializing with the MC meant that she had no interest at all in Opie Winston, both of which suited her just fine.

But it was now painfully obvious to Emily that she had been _so_ wrong and that the girl was indeed more than just interested in the SAMCRO VP. Judging by the way she was dressed and flirting as Opie went out of his way to keep her in his orbit all night was not only an indication that she was interested, but that she was making a play for him and Opie didn't seem to mind one bit. Emily realized that she was going to have to make something drastic happen, and soon, if she wanted to keep the redheaded bitch from snatching Opie right from under her.

As determined as she was to see what relationship she had with Opie turn into something more permanent, Emily had to admit that something kept nagging at her. She had really enjoyed the time she had spent with Quinn, as "requested" by Jax Teller, the last time the Nomad President had been in Charming. And unlike with Opie, Emily knew straight away that Quinn was definitely interested. He had said as much himself when he had asked her to hit the road with him after the passionate night they had shared.

She had declined, after all, she had bills to pay and needed to work, but Emily had sure been tempted to take him up on his offer. Not only were they a lot closer in age, but Quinn had been really sweet to her. More important, for a woman like Emily at least, Quinn was a big man everywhere it counted the most and she had thoroughly enjoyed his lovemaking skills. _Repeatedly_. Having pinned her hopes on the younger outlaw biker for so long, however, Emily was not about to give up on him now. Opie definitely wasn't a slacker in the bedroom either and with him she wouldn't have to turn her life upside down by relocating some place new. Besides, she had invested too much of her time and energy in securing him for herself and Emily may have been a lot of things, but a quitter wasn't one of them.

With Fawn Trager on the scene, now it was a matter of pride that Emily best the young woman. The first time the women had met, Emily had been deadly serious when she had told Tig's daughter to get her shit and leave the Clubhouse.

_Now, I need to make her regret sticking around._

* * *

Having crawled into bed only a few hours before, the Tellers were wide awake and cuddling after playing a round of their favorite Saturday morning games. Lying in a sweaty heap under the new light blue comforter Jolene had acquired during her latest redecorating fit, Jax was busy playing with his old lady's wild bed head mess of curls when she sighed.

Noticing the faraway look in her eyes, Jax pressed a kiss on her forehead. "What's on your mind, darlin'?" He asked, his voice gravely from lack of sleep.

"Nothing." Jolene replied as she burrowed her face into his neck and nipped at the skin of his throat, a sexy distraction to keep him from seeing on her face that she was being dishonest.

"There's never _nothing_ going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Jo." Jax called her out. "Something bothering you, babe?"

Jolene pulled away slightly and shook her head. "Not really. I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around Kenny as a Prospect."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Jax chuckled. "It felt a little surreal handing him his Prospect kutte last night. It seems like only yesterday that his little punk ass was running around this house with Ellie and Abel raising hell."

"Uh huh." Jax frowned a little as he noted the cryptic tone of his old lady's reply. "In no time at all, he'll be raising a whole different kind of hell." She noted.

Turning to make eye contact, he noted the look of concern on her face. "Something's wrong, darlin'. What is it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Jolene deliberately avoided his gaze.

Taking a gentle hold of her chin, he turned her face back to his. "I think you do. Tell me."

Jolene sighed again. "I guess I'm just a little worried. Kenny's so young."

"Kenny—Harry, is the same age as his old man and I were when we prospected." Jax reminded her.

"I know. It's just that, well, he's always been hell-for-leather and I'm just worried about him. I don't want him getting hurt. You know I love you, love the Life, but as much as Donna loved Opie, she never really wanted this life for her kids." Jolene sat up. "As the mother of two boys, I can understand that feeling. And now that I see Kenny—Harry—following in Opie's footsteps, I start thinking about Abel following in yours and—" She trailed off.

"It scares you." Jax concluded.

Jolene nodded. "Yeah. You saw the excitement on his face this morning when you told him about Kenny. I just know that he's counting the days until he's asked to follow right behind him."

Jax sat up and gathered his woman close. "Is that such a bad thing, Jo? For Abel to want to follow in the footsteps of his father and both grandfathers?" He tried, but he couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Baby, that's not what I'm saying at all," Jolene replied. "But it doesn't mean that I'll ever stop worrying. About Abel or Kenny. Or you, for that matter."

The fact was that Jolene would always worry about Abel, especially after his rough start in life. She had nearly lost her firstborn son three times before his first birthday and, even though four years have passed, she still wasn't fully recovered from their shared kidnapping experience. Watching her son grow into a young man so quickly, she couldn't outrun the feeling of deep foreboding in her chest.

The thought that, somewhere down the road, Abel could end up badly hurt, in prison or even dead was something that Jolene found herself living with a lot lately. Afraid that she wasn't as strong as she thought she was—as everyone gave her credit for being—Jolene couldn't even bring herself to share these feelings with her old man. In the end, all she could do was continue to bury those feelings, all the while giving both of her sons the tools to survive the Life or any life they ultimately chose to live.

With Abel still many years away from the time he would be eligible to prospect, Jolene was working behind the scenes to make sure that he did not slack off in school. To outsiders Abel may be the just the son of an outlaw biker, but Jax Teller was an incredibly intelligent man and Abel had inherited more than his fair share of brain cells from both of his parents. Even though he tried to downplay his interest in academics around other SAMCRO children, Abel was at the top of his class and incredibly book smart.

But he also had a great love for the MC. Eventually, Abel would have to make a choice and all she and Jax could do as parents was make sure he had all the skills necessary to make the choice that suits him.

Wrapping her arms around her old man, Jolene grinned, confident that Abel would end up making the right choice. "I'm sorry, baby. The momma bear in me has the tendency to be a worrywart."

"Well, darlin', instead of worrying about Abel and his choices, which are years down the road, maybe we should focus on Ope. I think he needs some help with getting Fawn on board." Jax replied.

Jolene smiled a little with relief as her old man changed the conversation. "Ope is gonna be just fine. After what I witnessed last night, I think Fawn's already on board. When it finally does happen, that shit's gonna be pretty explosive."

"Explosive?" Jax drawled. "More like nuclear."


	15. The Confrontation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

It wasn't just another blazing hot day, but also the worst hair day of the summer so far when the shit blew up at Gina's Cut-N-Curl. The events of the day would not only go down in the annals of Charming's gossip history but, such as they were, would trigger the end of the year-long sexual drought of Charming's newest resident.

Fawn Trager, however, went about taking care of business in her newly-acquired shop completely unaware just how drastically her life was about to change. _Again_.

Although Fawn had kept herself hydrated with plenty of icy non-alcoholic drinks at the Club's after-Church party the night before, as morning gave way to afternoon, she found herself dragging her ass as though she were hung-over. With less than three hours sleep before she had to open the shop for the Langley-Douglas wedding party, Fawn was ready to call it a day by the time the last of the bridesmaids left.

Unfortunately, not only was it a typically hectic Saturday afternoon, reconstruction and renovations were in full swing, forcing Fawn to stay on the premises in case she was needed on site. As tired as she was, Fawn—along with Lexie—wanted to be a part of the process that would convert the Cut-n-Curl into the premier hair and body salon they both dreamed of.

With construction materials and equipment cluttering the shop, the noise, dust, and lack of space made working on customers more than a little difficult, especially with the extra bodies walking through and disrupting the flow. In spite of the large sheets of opaque plastic that separated the old space from the new, the loud drilling and the solid thumps of sledgehammers on walls and floors did not exactly make for the ideal feel-good experience that the shop's clientele had come to expect.

In spite of the many disadvantages and outright snafus of operating through renovations, those extra bodies, however, were clearly the only advantage—at least as far as the beleaguered stylists and manicurists were concerned. Those extra bodies, in the form of big, brawny construction workers, were in the process of breaking through the walls on both floors that connected the properties. So despite the grime and noise pollution, everyone was thoroughly enjoying the sight of sweaty, hardworking men, especially as a whole lot of lighthearted and good-natured flirting was going on.

"Okay, so what does everybody want? You first, Mary Ellen." Fawn said as Ellie stood at the ready with a pad and pencil to take down everyone's lunch order. If Fawn was to continue functioning, she needed something more than just stale coffee in her stomach.

"I want roast beef on rye with lettuce, tomato and Swiss cheese, and a bag of chips." The stylist pointed a brush loaded with blond hair dye at Ellie. "And don't forget the mustard and mayo. That sandwich was as dry as dirt the last time. And don't bring me them baked chips either. I hate that crap."

"I will make sure not to forget your condiments or full-fat chips," Ellie sassed. "Even though last week you made me promise that, no matter what you ordered for lunch, I was only ever to bring you a grilled chicken garden salad, no dressing."

"Fuck that!" Mary Ellen shot back. "With the air conditioning acting up in here, I can lose weight in this sauna without dieting!"

"You don't need to lose any weight, darlin'. You look perfectly fine to me." A tall, dark-haired construction worker with hazel eyes grinned and winked as he carried some materials through to the other side of the shop.

Mary Ellen sighed. "Did I tell you how much I love you for redoing this shop, Fawn? It's doing all kinds of wonderful things for my self-esteem."

"Heifer, fixing this shop ain't got shit to do with your self-esteem. It just so happens to be a nice by-product for ya, that's all." Fawn snarked.

As the rest of the stylists and clients enjoyed a good laugh at Mary Ellen's expense, kidding her about working on finding a new husband while working on hair, the bell twinkling loudly over the front door as it slammed opened caused a brief hush to fall among the group of women.

Standing in the doorway with a hand cocked on a thrust out hip was Emily Duncan.

 _What the fuck_? Fawn thought as she eyed the woman distastefully.

It had been irritating enough turning around every five minutes last night at the Clubhouse and finding the older woman watching her. Fawn had been enjoying her one-on-one time with Opie so much that she refused to acknowledge the woman's existence in spite of feeling her eyes boring a hole in the back of her head all night.

Now the old glory hole had the gall to show up at her place of business with an apparent chip on her shoulder.

 _Maybe the washed up hag finally decided to invest in a professionally-done dye job_ , Fawn snickered to herself, but knew the woman had come to finish what she hadn't had the nerve to start last night _._

And Emily had chosen her wardrobe with extreme care for this occasion. She wanted to look her best when she finally came down on the SAA's little girl by finally staking her claim on Opie Winston. Wearing a tight red halter top, a denim mini-skirt and strappy heeled sandals with a matching designer bag, even Fawn had to admit that the ho-bag had done a good job concealing the fact that she would never see 40 again.

Having given Ellie her lunch order, Fawn was about to escort her client to reception when Emily stalked into the shop. Crossing her arms as she stood near the shampoo area, Fawn focused her intense blue eyes on the woman who was striding with purpose towards her.

"If you're here to repair the damage that cheap hair color has done, honey," Fawn said derisively. "You need to make an appointment first."

"Fuck my hair, bitch." Emily retorted angrily. "I'm here to talk to you."

The normally level-headed professional Fawn would have told Emily to leave the store before she called the cops. After all, this was a place of business and if she had a personal matter to discuss with Fawn, she should come see her afterhours, not raise a stink in front of her clients. Today, however, Fawn was not only irritated by the heat, but the lack of sleep and hunger had her feeling out of sorts. It wasn't a even a full minute since Emily had entered the shop and already Fawn was running low on patience.

"Good because I have been looking forward to this day like Christmas." Without breaking contact with Emily's fiery green gaze, Fawn addressed her client. "I really appreciate your business, Monique, so you might want to move out of the way. This could get ugly."

Eyeing the stance and attitude coming off of both women in waves, Monique cocked her head to the side, swinging her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Aw shit, I know what that means. Better give me your earrings first." Taking the pair of dangly silver teardrop earrings from her stylist, the young woman scooted next to Lexie's station and out of the line of fire.

 _Talk about a full-service salon. I get my hair done and a show_!

"First of all, I know I must have heard you wrong. Or, then again, maybe that cheap hair dye you've been using has addled your brain because you did NOT just march your skanky ass into MY shop and call ME a bitch."

Emily crossed her arms under her heaving breasts. "There ain't shit wrong with me, little girl, or your hearing for that matter. Out of respect for the Club, I didn't bring this shit up with you last night, but someone needs to teach you some proper MC etiquette. So here I am."

Fawn almost choked on her stifled laughter. "Are you serious? _That's_ why you came down here?" Fawn asked, but before Emily could continue, she threw her hand up, shutting her up. "Sweetheart, you are no one to be schooling me on shit. I am not a hang-around and I certainly am NOT a part of your croweater fan club."

"Well, _sweetheart_ , aside from being Tigger's kid, you ain't shit in that Clubhouse either." Emily shook her head as she took a step closer to Fawn, who didn't budge and stood her ground. "Out of respect for Tig, I tried cutting you some slack, but you crossed the line by pushing up on what's mine, so I'm only going to say this once: _Opie Winston belongs to me_. You need to keep your fuckin' hands off my man or, the next time I catch you, you'll wish you never set foot in Charming." She threatened.

Staring at the fuming woman, Fawn was fighting to control herself. Losing that internal battle, she burst out laughing at the look of earnestness on Emily's face, like she actually believed the shit that was coming out of her mouth. That only served to further incense Emily's ire as their captive audience watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

A coughing fit finally brought Fawn's laughter under control. "That's funny." She replied, managing to catch her breath. "He sure didn't look like your man last night, now did he?" Fawn's sweet little smile didn't exactly make it to her eyes, which were blazing. "You know, when I first came to town, you and your croweater friends were nothing but a big joke to me—accessories the MC keeps around the Clubhouse to get them a beer and suck their dicks. Now, I'm actually feeling kinda sad for your pathetic ass. I mean really, after all these years in the SAMCRO Clubhouse and you _still_ don't know your place yet? Even I, an _outsider,_ know that calling Opie your man is not a decision you get to make. You were just a convenient and warm body he sought comfort with when he got an itch that needed scratching, but don't you worry your pretty little head. I've got that shit covered now, so run your skank ass out of here before shit between us gets seriously twisted." She ordered, stretching her arm out to point at the shop's exit.

 _Girl, you know you ain't taking care of shit yet when it comes to Opie, except giving the man a chronic case of blue balls_ , inner-Fawn reminded her. _That's alright, though, 'cause it IS gonna happen. I'll make sure of that. For now, just keep it up and send this heifer packing_! _Right. Now._

Meanwhile, standing off to the side next to Joanie, Ellie had snapped the pencil she had been using to take orders in half as she balled her other hand into tight little fist, gripping her cell phone.

_How dare this croweater trash come into Fawn's shop and attempt to humiliate her like that?_

As much as her father tried to keep her sheltered, Ellie knew what the deal was with the Club women. Since her mother had died, their presence in her father's life was something she just had to accept, even as he went out of the way to keep that part of his life away from his family. But Fawn wasn't one of them. After seeing her father and her dear friend together over the past several weeks, it was clear that Opie considered Fawn to be something special. Not like this hang-around whore who was not only disrespecting Fawn, but claiming ownership of her father!

As Joanie placed a protective arm around her shoulder to keep her from moving, Ellie stood and watched the word battle between the two women.

And out the corner of her eye, Fawn could see the angry look on the young girl's face and she internally kicked herself for allowing this shit to happen in front of Opie's daughter. Suddenly determined to pull back and just get the whore out of her shop, Fawn wasn't prepared for the unfortunate hard left the situation took.

"Who do you think you're kidding? You haven't slept with him, bitch," Emily mocked. "So don't go making out like you have because word travels fast around the Clubhouse and I would have heard all about it had Opie been hitting your crab-infested shit."

 _Oh, it's on now_!

"Boy, you really are stupid. I feel like a bully for pointing it out, but it just has to be said—you're a moron. My advice, sweetie? You really shouldn't put your trust in what your little croweater friends have to say, and I would stop claiming Opie as mine if I were you," Fawn said as she towered over the croweater in her five-inch open-toed leopard print Jimmy Choos. "You see, why would he wanna play with a withered up little twig like you, when he can have the whole fuckin' tree to climb?" She taunted, as she held her arms out wide to showcase her assets.

And that's when Emily Duncan lost her shit. "You filthy little whore!" Despite being shorter and almost twenty years older, the croweater darted forward to make contact with Fawn. Shoving her with all her might, Emily pushed the stylist hard enough that she toppled against the shampoo bowl.

"OH SHIT!" Lexie screeched as Fawn turned around with one of the hoses attached to the shampoo bowl's water faucet.

"Bitch, it's time somebody cooled you off!" And flipping on the faucet, Fawn aimed the stream of water at Emily's face. Emily sputtered and coughed as the icy cold water stole her breath away as she tried backing away and out of the line of fire.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Joanie yelled as she tried to shield Ellie and her client's hair from the spraying water.

"I'm hosing down this fuckin' ho!" Fawn yelled above the screams of clients and stylists as they tried to get out of the way, a couple of them running outside with cell phones in hand.

Emily, who was immediately soaked from head to toe, gamely fought against the spray to tackle Fawn to the floor. As the hose was loosened from Fawn's grasp to flail about wildly in the air, spraying anyone in its path, the two women grappled on the slick, wet floor, screaming and cursing at the top of their lungs.

As slippery as Emily was, she couldn't escape Fawn's death grip as she managed to twist her way from underneath Emily and ended up straddling her. With the crazy Trager rage bursting loose in her, Fawn fought the urge to bite, but repeatedly rained down close-fisted blows, striking her adversary on her face and head.

"This will teach your dumb ass to come in here and start shit with me." So lost in her all consuming anger and rage, Fawn barely registered the chaos that had erupted around her, including the cat-calling encouragement she was getting from her crew of construction workers, who had come pounding down the stairs from the second floor when the ruckus began.

Or the muted sounds of sirens as they got louder the closer they got to the shop.

Barely feeling as Emily raked her nails against her arm, Fawn grabbed her by the hair to slam the woman's head down on the faux marble floor. As the front door slammed open again, Fawn suddenly found herself being pulled off of Emily and started swinging wildly, managing to clip Deputy Mitchell Caine on the jaw.

"That's enough, damn it!" Whipping her around in short order, Deputy Caine quickly slapped a pair of handcuffs on Fawn. "I guess we'll be adding assaulting a peace officer to the charges."

"What fuckin' charges?!" Fawn yelled. "I was the one attacked in my own shop and you're arresting ME?!"

"Don't worry," Deputy Alex Martinez now had a similarly handcuffed Emily by the arm. "You'll have plenty of company in the cell next to you. I expect you two to behave yourselves in the back of the squad car or you'll be spending a whole lot of quality time together to the tune of thirty days in lockup."

As the two deputies marched their perps out of the shop, Fawn turned to yell over her shoulder. "Lex, please, call my Dad and have him meet me at the station as fast as he can. Oh and reschedule my 3:00 appointment!"

As Lexie nodded wordlessly, Ellie pressed the first number on speed dial on her cell phone.

 _Someone else needs to know about this and fast_ , she thought grimly.

* * *

Today was the day that Opie Winston was going to have his world rocked by one feisty redhead and he didn't even know it.

Sitting at a table inside the Clubhouse with his best friend, he and Jax had just finished lunch and were relaxing a bit before heading back to the garage to do a little bit of honest work. But as it was, the SAMCRO Prez saw the opportunity to needle his friend about what he witnessed the night before and took it.

"So, it looks like you're finally about to close escrow on Fawn, huh?" Jax said just as Opie took of gulp of Jack. Not prepared for the bluntness of the question, he ended up spraying the contents of the glass on both of them.

"Shit, bro. Nosey much?"

Jax chuckled as he used his bandana to wipe the amber liquid off of his T-M work shirt. "Hey, just saying, bro. That shit between the two of you was pretty hard to miss last night. I thought for sure that at some point you were gonna carry her off to your dorm."

"That was the plan. I would have too, if I didn't have Tig's eyeballs on me all night." Opie groused.

Jax sighed. "You really think it's gonna be a problem for him? You know I can talk to him, feel him out for ya, if you want."

Opie shook his head. "Nah, bro. This is my shit to handle. I don't think he's gonna flip out on me, but if he's concerned, I get that. We do have a lot of bad history, man."

"Considering that history, it seems only right that things work out for you with Fawn. It might end up really healing things between you and Tig if things work out for the permanent."

Opie held up his hand holding his lit cigarette. "Hey, I'm not looking to get ahead of myself here, Jax. I mean, I like Fawn. A lot. _A-whole-fuckin'-lot_ , but right now I just wanna get laid. We can see where things go from there later."

Just at that moment, Opie's prepay went off in his pocket.

* * *

"What the fuck happened?!" Tig yelled, throwing the wrench he was holding in one hand on the ground as he clutched his prepay with the other. Stalking towards his bike, he continued listening to the panicked voice on the other end of the line.

Looking up as he crossed the lot, Tig saw Opie striding towards him, his own phone gripped to his ear, but the SAA turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. He would deal with the SAMCRO VP later. Right now, Fawnzy was his only concern.

"Yes, yes. Look, calm down, a'ight, Lexie? I'm getting on my bike now and I'll be down at the station in ten minutes." He growled before hanging up the phone.

 _Damn it! This is all your fault_ , Tig thought bitterly as he flashed Opie a sideways glare.

Tig was not the mother charter's Sergeant-at-Arms for nothing. He had been feeling a different kind of tension between his daughter and the VP for quite sometime now. Even though he was no longer been getting the vibe that they couldn't stand each other, he had been blind to the fact that they were circling each other until last night. After what Tig had seen with his own eyes, he no longer had the option of brushing off his feelings of concern as nothing to worry about. He was absolutely positive that if it had been clear as a bell to him that his kid and Ope were feeling each other pretty bad, it certainly had not gone unnoticed by the one croweater he had seen giving Fawnzy the evil eye all night. The stupid bitch had made a huge mistake by losing her shit and picking a fight with Fawn down at her shop. He would deal with the dirty gash later. Right now, he blamed Opie for the fact that his Fawnzy was in fucking lock up.

Deciding that he needed to lob a parting shot at the giant biker, Tig turned to angrily face off with Opie. "I'm going to bail my kid out of jail and it's all your fuckin' fault!" Tig yelled.

_This is all my fuckin' fault._

Opie could kick himself for not putting Emily Duncan in her place a long time ago. She had been getting clingy and Opie blamed himself for getting too comfortable with the croweater. She obviously had gotten the idea in her head that their frequent hook ups meant more than they actually did. Now Fawn had been hauled off to jail because of it, and Ellie had to witness it all.

"No shit, brother." Opie replied, as Tig took notice of the self-loathing clearly evident on his face. "That's why you have to let me be the one to bail her out."

Opie cringed a little has he replayed his daughter's words in his head.

" _You better go down there and get Fawn out of jail, Daddy. That woman showed up here and caused all sorts of shit because she said you belonged to her. You have to show Fawn that's not the case."_

And she was right.

After asking Jax to contact Jolene about picking Ellie up from the shop and having her spend the night, Opie was hell bent on going down to the station to bail Fawn out. Only he had to get through her father first.

Opie quickly taking the blame for what had transpired between Fawn and Emily had certainly taken the wind out of Tig's sails. He was about to righteously rip into his brother before heading to the station. Knowing Opie like he did, he should have known that the big man would have taken responsibility for the mess he had a hand in creating.

"Look man," Tig started with a much cooler head than when he had received Lexie's call. "You're my brother and normally I wouldn't get involved in any of your personal shit, but after everything me and my kid have been through, I won't let some croweater treat her like a pass-around because of you. Banging my daughter for shits and giggles is not an option. I'm asking this of you from father-to-father. If you're just messing around, you need to cut Fawn loose. She's been through enough crap in her life because of me. The last thing she needs is having another man in her life bailing on her."

Opie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. While he had told his best friend that he wasn't looking for anything permanent with Fawn, facing off with her father was making him face some hard truths, things that he really didn't want to admit, not even to himself. He realized, however, that if he didn't acknowledge his intentions now, it would probably end up causing him a lot of shit down the road not only with his brother, but with Fawn herself.

"I'm not messing around here, brother. I haven't even hit it with Fawn. _Yet_." Opie watched his brother's eyes narrow as he focused on his face. "You need to face the reality that it's gonna happen and that whatever happens after that is between me and Fawn." Opie said assertively, leaving no room for argument. "But before I take this any further, I need you to believe that what I have going on with her has nothing to do with our history. I'm not looking to hurt Fawn or you, Tigger. You're just gonna have to trust me on that."

Tig nodded slowly acknowledging his brother words, finally accepting a few hard truths himself. Fawn was a grown woman and quite capable of living her own life. He also knew in his heart that Opie was a good man. His kid could do worse and, according to the stories she had told him during his convalescence, she had. He had no choice but to stand back and let nature take its course.

"You do realize that if you're the one that shows up to bail her out, Fawnzy's probably gonna want to gut you like a fuckin' fish and that I'll give her my KA-BAR to do it with?" Tig advised soberly.

"No doubt."

After staring each other down for a few more moments, the SAA finally shrugged. "Okay, good luck taking your ass whupping like a man then." Turning around, Tig headed back to the Subaru he had been working on, an enormous shit-eating grin on his face.

_Poor Ope's gonna fuckin' get it, but finally, Fawnzy has someone else to torture besides me!_

* * *

The Morada Substation of the San Joaquin County Sheriff's Department had taken over the building that used to be Charming's police station. Parking his ride in a space in front of the steps, Opie Winston took the stairs two at a time and made his way inside.

If he remembered his own run-ins with the law in the past correctly, Opie figured that Fawn would more than likely get slapped with disturbing the peace and public brawling. Depending on how much of an asshole Sheriff Roosevelt wanted to be, Fawn would probably get off with just a fine. If the Sheriff wanted to be a huge asshole and take into consideration Fawn's association with SAMCRO, the alternative could include spending time in the local tank in addition to a fine.

Either way, Opie knew that eventually he would have to face off with a royally pissed off spitfire.

Approaching the Sergeant sitting at the main desk, Opie turned around when he heard a familiar voice.

"This is certainly a surprise. You were not the visitor I was expecting from SAMCRO today." Eli Roosevelt sauntered towards the SAMCRO VP. Sipping from a mug of coffee in his hand, he eyed the biker in his usual kutte, which had been hastily thrown on top of his T-M work shirt.

"Roosevelt," Opie acknowledge. "I'm sure you can prolly guess why I'm here."

"I can, but I'm actually a little surprised. I was expecting Tig Trager to come see about his kid." Eli replied.

"He was going to," Opie nodded. "But I insisted on coming down and handling it myself."

Eli's eyebrows arched with surprise. Smiling, he slowly nodded knowingly. "You must have a strong constitution to put up with that little firebrand." He drawled.

"Stronger than most, apparently, but Fawn only gets uppity when someone steps out of line." Opie responded. "In this case, I believe someone entered her shop with the intention of starting trouble. Sounds like self-defense to me."

"I would normally agree," Eli tried not to smile. "But Miss Trager, after subduing her alleged attacker, proceeded to bash the woman's head against the floor. That is, after she attempted to drown her first."

 _Jesus Christ, Fawn_ , Opie shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Right now, bailing her out was not sounding like a possibility. "How long are you gonna hold her for?"

"Well, numerous eyewitnesses came forward at the scene and each one corroborated that it was indeed self-defense," Roosevelt started as Opie heaved a sigh of relief. "But there's still her assault of a peace officer to consider."

_SHIT!_

Roosevelt continued. "I'm sure, however, that it wasn't intentional. Being that she was probably caught up in the heat of the moment, I'm willing to waive it. _This time._ This kinda shit happens again, she _will_ do two weeks in a jail cell. Understand?"

Opie nodded, relieved but trying his best not to show it. "I understand. Thanks."

"Hey, don't thank me. This is all my wife's doing. Apparently, Miss Fawn has a way of doing her hair that if my wife is forced to go back to Lodi to get her hair did, I'll have to start sleeping with one eye open and my gun under my pillow." Roosevelt chuckled wryly. "Women."

And for a brief moment, the outlaw biker and the upright and stalwart man of the law were in full agreement.

* * *

Surprisingly, Fawn found that the cot in her cell was actually quite comfortable.

_Though I could do without having to go potty in front of God and all of creation._

Quickly flushing the toilet and washing her hands, Fawn did what she could to repair the damage to her clothing from her cat fight. Tucking her now dry but ripped shirt firmly into her jeans, she quickly used her fingers to fluff her hair.

 _I could sure use a mirror, although I'm pretty sure my face is not the one all busted up_ , Fawn nearly chuckled _. Too bad poor little Miss Cocksucker can't say the same._

Fawn only had to look through the bars of her cell to confirm it. In the holding cell across from hers, Emily Duncan was trying to put herself together again and was failing miserably. Still quite wet from her attempted drowning, Fawn noted with glee that her mascara and foundation had run and was smeared all over her face. With her swollen left eye and a matching fat lip not helping matters, Emily resembled a zombie ghoul from _The Walking Dead_. As they had scuffled on the floor, Fawn had managed to grab hold of her halter top and had ripped it pretty good, so now Emily had to be vigilant about holding it up unless she wanted to give the Sanwa Sherriff's a view of her overinflated titties. On her way down to the cells, a strap had broken on one of her sandals, so not only did Emily look like a zombie, but she walked like one too.

 _That is one unhappy-looking bitch_ , Fawn thought, amused.

And, for the most part, she would be right. What started out as Emily teaching Fawn that it would be wiser if she stayed away from her man, had quickly morphed into a clusterfuck that Emily wasn't sure she'd be able to clear herself from. The Club—or at the very least, Tig—would more than likely side with Fawn. After all, Emily had been wrong when she said that Fawn was a nobody in the Clubhouse. As Tig's daughter, an officer of the MC who sat to the President's right at the table, Fawn was practically untouchable.

In her desperation to stake a claim on a man who was clearly interested in someone else, Emily had underestimated the crazy that was Fawn Trager. She had thought that she could get away unscathed by issuing her ultimatum to the bratty woman away from Club property. It might have worked too if Emily hadn't done the one thing she had wanted to avoid: completely losing her shit and attacking the obviously bigger and more powerful woman first.

Word had probably already reached the Clubhouse and Emily dreaded to think that she was definitely in the shit with the Club.

Apparently, the Trager brat also had the power to read minds, as Fawn basically put all of Emily's fears into words.

"You do realize just how truly screwed you are, right?" It was said quite coolly and with little fanfare.

"Fuck off, bitch!" Emily retorted.

"No. I'm not going anywhere, but I have a feeling that's exactly what you're going to be told to do the next time you show your face at the Clubhouse." Fawn walked over to the bars of her cell and casually leaned against them. "Not that I care what happens to you one way or the other, but maybe it's time you consider retiring from the whole croweater gig because actually, for a woman your age, you're not half bad looking. I mean, it prolly wouldn't hurt to get your hair professionally done every once in a while, but that's just my opinion. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that there's still time for you to find a man. Just don't expect it to be Opie Winston because the SAMCRO VP is now spoken for."

Suddenly, the thought of taking a break from Charming was starting to sound like a good idea to Emily. Only a couple of days ago, a croweater friend of hers from up North had called, saying she had been asked to pass along a message to her from Quinn. The Nomad President was currently bunking down at the SAMTAC Clubhouse and wanted her to know that his offer was still on the table.

It was certainly food for thought. Emily was not a stupid woman and, unlike other Club whores who had to have lessons beaten into them, she got the message loud and clear. She often thought about Jax Teller's former old lady Wendy Case, who after reappearing for a brief time with a new old man from SAMTAZ, had virtually vanished into thin air after the biker had been stripped of his patch. No one ever spoke of Wendy, almost like she had never existed, and Emily had enough sense in her head to know what that meant.

_Maybe before some bad shit gets the chance to happen to me, I need to leave Charming in the rearview._

* * *

Women were definitely one of God's most magnificent creations. Opie loved women, not as much his pal Jax once had, but nonetheless, he did. But Opie would be lying if he said that every once in a while he didn't think about choking the shit out of one.

 _Like right now_ , Opie thought grimly as he followed Roosevelt down to the cells.

Roosevelt was still chuckling under his breath when he returned to the waiting area to tell Opie that Fawn Trager wanted him to know that she was quite fine where she was and would rather wait for her father to come get her. Apparently, Ellie and Tig were not the only ones blaming him for Emily Duncan going bat-shit crazy on her ass.

And to put it mildly, Fawn was indeed pissed, according to Sheriff Roosevelt.

Fawn knew her pride was prolly making her look like an idiot, but the last person she wanted to face right now was the person she had put a hurting on Emily for. She felt ridiculous for cat fighting like the whores down at the Clubhouse and just needed time to cool off before facing Opie. Besides, lack of sleep and the fact that she had missed out on lunch were making her cranky as hell and the last thing she wanted to do was fight with Opie. Not now, not after they had come such a long way. She wanted to explain this to the Sheriff to pass along to Ope, but with Emily eagerly straining to listen to the conversation, she told him to tell Opie to go away and send her father down to get her.

And Fawn would have stayed there too and waited for her father had Opie not come storming in behind Sheriff Roosevelt.

Fawn leapt to her feet. "What the hell are you doing down here?"

"I've come to get your ass out, so stop with the bullshit and let's go." Opie ordered as Roosevelt looked on, the grin on his face clearly evident.

The look on Fawn's face could only be described as indignant shock, but Opie smiled when it looked like she was giving in to his demand when she strode towards the cell door Roosevelt had just opened.

Stopping short of exiting the cell, Fawn cross her arms under her chest. "No. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"The fuck you say!" The SAMCRO VP glared at the young woman. "I didn't come here to leave empty handed, Fawn."

"That may not have been the plan, Redwood, but that's what's gonna happen. Good-bye."

"Opie, hon! I don't mind going with you." Emily called out.

"Shut the fuck up!" Both Opie and Fawn yelled the croweater into silence.

Turning back to Fawn, Opie crossed his arms. "Babe, this is going to go down in one of two ways." He said in a relatively calm voice. Fawn arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. "You're either walking out of that cell of your own free will or I'm gonna walk in there, sling your ass over my shoulder, and carry you out."

Fawn narrowed her eyes at Opie. "You wouldn't."

"Trust me. I would."

"You can't do that." Fawn challenged. "The Sheriff knows I don't want to leave with you. That would be like kidnapping, right?" She turned to ask Roosevelt.

"Technically, yes." Eli nodded, with a slight smile. "And I might be forced to put him under arrest."

"See?" Fawn cocked a hip.

" _And_? You think the threat of arrest is gonna stop me?" Opie smirked. "All that means is, with all my priors, I'll get shipped off to County and then YOU will have to explain to Ellie why her father's in lockup."

Fawn's mouth fell open in shock. "That's real low, Ope, using Ellie to get me to toe the line."

"Whatever works, Big Red."

Actually considering calling his bluff, Fawn suddenly remembered the angry and hurt look on the young woman's face as she and Emily were going at it at the salon.

_Fuckin' bastard already knows my weaknesses! Shit!_

Flipping her hair, Fawn barely managed to stalk out of the cell and down the hallway.

Roosevelt nodded at the biker before following. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks." Opie returned the nod and smile.

"For the record, I wouldn't have put your ass under arrest had you carried her out of here."

"I appreciate that."

"But you do know that you're probably a dead man, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Good. Just checking."

"Hey?!" Emily cried out as Opie moved to follow Fawn and the Sheriff back upstairs. "What about me?!"

"What about you?" He said over his shoulder as he turned the corner.

* * *

Fawn held her head up high as she walked out of the Morada substation and down the stairs, neither looking to the right or to the left. All she wanted was to go home.

 _I sure hope Tig didn't restock his liquor cabinet 'cause right now this is a Jack Daniels moment if there ever was one_.

Now literally seething with anger after being humiliated for the second time in one day, Fawn wasn't even paying attention to where she was going. With her anger as fuel, she probably could have walked all the way back to Seattle. Fortunately, for her designer heels, she was prevented from doing so when a burly hand suddenly gripped her by the upper arm and dragged her in the opposite direction.

Looking up, all she could see was a whole lotta of annoyed biker dragging her off to his parked ride.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go!"

"No, I'm taking your ass home." Opie replied calmly.

"No you're not. I'm not going anywhere with you." Fawn informed him as a matter of fact. "Do you realize that if you had just let me beat the stank off that slut the first time we crossed paths at the Clubhouse, I wouldn't be in this mess?"

"What mess?" Opie asked. "The Sheriff let you go."

"Still," Fawn sputtered, struggling to pull her arm out of his hold. "Let me go!"

"Fawn!" Opie literally yelled through clenched teeth. "Get your ass on my bike right the fuck now." He said in a harsh growl.

That was when Fawn was slapped in the face with a stunning realization. _Damn, he's fuckin' hot when he's pissed_.

Watching as he threw his long leg over and straddled the bike, Fawn reluctantly grabbed the helmet he offered her and jammed it on her head. "Just take me home already." She ordered as she climbed on behind him. "It's been a long fuckin' day."

As Opie sped off from the curb, he thought grimly to himself.

 _Get ready, baby, because it's about to get a hell of a lot longer_.

* * *

Fawn was in such a pissy mood that she paid little to no attention to the scenery as Opie's bike pealed down the roads of Charming.

 _What a shitty day_ , Fawn groaned to herself. _I can't wait to call Tina. She's not going to believe this shit_.

Fawn didn't know it, but that was one call she would never get to make.

As Opie pulled the bike to an abrupt stop, Fawn took a look at the house and gasped in shock.

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Fawn pounded on the back of his kutte with her little fists. "I told you I wanted to go home."

"We are home."

"Not _your_ home, asshole! _My_ home." Fawn practically whined. "Christ Almighty, all I want to do is take a long fuckin' shower and fall into bed."

"Oh, you will. Not in that order, but you will." Opie promised.

 _We're gonna be doing a lot of freaky shit in between too, as soon as I get your ass in the house_ , Opie grinned to himself, grateful that his mother had decided to visit some old friends in Galt for the weekend _._

With Ellie safely tucked away with the Tellers and Kenny spending the night with his latest conquest after wrapping up work at T-M, Opie had the whole house to himself.

And he had no intention of spending the night alone. He had waited long enough. It was time to claim what was his.

Getting off his bike, Opie made quick work of taking the helmet off of Fawn's head before hanging it on the handlebars. Then, in one swift, fluid motion, he picked her up off the bike and threw her over his right shoulder.

"What the fuck, Ope?!" She screeched. "Put me down, you big ape!"

But Opie paid no mind to her constant wriggling and the beating of her fists on his back as he quickly used his key to enter his house. Slamming the door shut with the heel of his boot, he didn't break his stride and did not stop until he was in his bedroom, kicking that door closed behind him as well.

He felt his heart make a strange leap in his chest as he realized that he was now in the bedroom he once shared with Donna and that, for the first time in nearly four years, he would share with another woman. Dropping his exquisite bundle onto the bed, Opie didn't say a word as he yanked his kutte off and threw it over his shoulder, landing in a heap on the floor.

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue as she looked into the heated green eyes of a very determined outlaw biker as he kicked off his boots before slowly stripping off his T-M work shirt and white undershirt.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Fawn's formerly strident tone had now turned into a hoarse whisper as her chest heaved up and down.

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?" Opie growled. "You have ten seconds to strip your ass out of those clothes before I rip them off of you!"

Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, Fawn heard her inner voice beg almost incoherently. _Please, oh, please take them off! Oh my God, if you don't take your clothes off right now, I swear I'm never speaking to you again!_

Opie paused as he noticed Fawn working her lips as if trying to speak. He had to strain his hearing in order to make out those six beautiful words.

"Fuck my clothes. It's on now!"

And with that statement, the feisty redhead leaped off the bed and threw herself into Opie's outstretched arms.

* * *

Opie didn't know what hit him.

Momentarily stunned, he forgot about his half-undone pants. Instead, all of his senses were reveling in the joy of the suddenly hot and eager woman in his arms intent on sucking the tongue out of his head. With Fawn pressing herself tightly against his granite-like body, Opie wrapped his arms around her small waist and pulled her up, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around him.

She was moaning and making all sorts of delicious happy noises as she simultaneously kissed and pulled at his lips with her teeth. Suddenly seizing control, Opie buried his hands in Fawn's tousled dark red mane and held her steady. Now it was his turn to plunder her mouth with his tongue, just as he intended to plunder her body.

Pulling away for air, Fawn bit her lip as she got her first up-close look of the tattoos on Opie's chest. She ran her hands over his warm, tight muscles, her fingers dancing over the art decorating his body. Dipping her head, she placed soft kisses on the ink across his clavicle as Opie watched her, his green eyes smoldering. He let out a surprised hiss and then a groan as Fawn's teeth grazed his collarbone before running her tongue up his neck, gently biting on the sensitive skin of his throat. Pressing kisses on her face as she continued nibbling on his neck, Opie let his lips fall further to gently suck on the area between her ear and jaw line.

Feeling her nipples tighten almost painfully in her bra, Fawn was unable to hold back any longer and let the breathy moan that was burning the back of her throat escape. Her half-hooded eyes flew open as, keeping true to his word and with one smooth motion, Opie ripped Fawn's already-torn shirt off her body and tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder with the rest of his clothes. With that barrier between them gone, Opie finally got to see the woman he had been dreaming about and lusting over for six long months.

"Shit, baby," He breathed hoarsely as he drank in her large plump breasts squeezed into a tiny and lacy bra. "You're beautiful." And she was, but it was finally getting to see her tattoo that had him nearly turned to stone, already hard as a rock. Using one hand, he unhooked the front clasp, causing the bra to fall away and leaving her luscious breasts exposed.

His mouth suddenly dry, Opie used his finger to trace the pattern of the rose tattoo at the base of her throat as the thorny vines, dotted with smaller roses, trailed over the creamy mound of her right breast, down her side and wrapped around her back twice before ending at her navel. Fawn instinctively arched her back, her eyes closed to narrow slits as she moaned. The lightning sensation created by his rough fingers on her soft skin sent ripples of electricity coursing through her body.

Losing her hands in his shoulder-length hair, Fawn ground her core against Opie's rock-hard abs, the friction caused by the seam on her jeans bringing some relief to the ache between her legs. "Fuck me, Opie," She groaned against his mouth as his hand clamped down on her tit. "I want you so fuckin' much."

She didn't have to ask twice.

Finding herself suddenly bouncing up and down on the huge bed, Fawn kicked off her shoes and frantically unzipped her jeans, pulling them off along with her underwear as Opie—just as frantically—searched for a condom. Coming to the edge of the bed on her knees, she quickly grabbed the foil packet away from him with one hand as she grabbed onto his hard-on with the other. Opie's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as she stroked his shaft achingly slow.

"God, you're big." Fawn ripped open the condom wrapper using her teeth.

Opie arched an eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" He teased.

"Seriously?" Fawn giggled. "No, it's _definitely_ not a problem. I have to warn you, though. It's been a while for me."

As horny and as ready as he was to be inside her already, he was curious. "What's 'a while'?"

"Over a year," She winked at him as she slowly rolled the condom over his erection. "So, I'm really hoping you have a lot more of these."

"I think we're covered, greedy." Opie smirked as he pushed her back onto the bed, climbing over her.

He could feel her shuddering already as she looked into his eyes, her flaming red hair spread around her on the bed like a halo made of fire. Holding himself up with one hand, he used the other to gently pry her leg open. Running his work-callused hand over the alabaster skin of her thigh, up to her tight, flat belly, Fawn gasped as she felt his thumb making gentle circles around her clit.

"Oh God, yes," She moaned and bit her lip as she caressed his bearded face.

Dipping his head slightly, Opie sucked a beautiful pink nipple into his mouth until it peaked into a tight bud. Instinctively bucking her hips as she felt Opie's hard cock at her entrance, Fawn thought she would pass out before she actually got the chance to feel him inside her. Arching her back, Fawn cried out as Opie plunged himself into her. Almost crying out himself, he bit into her shoulder.

"Shit, baby," He groaned into her neck. "You're so tight."

 _Oh my God!_ Inner-Fawn exclaimed gleefully. _Shit, gurl! You weren't exaggerating! He's huge!_

Wrapping a long lean leg around his thigh, Fawn ran her hands over Opie's brow, pushing his mop of thick hair away from his face. Raising her head from the bed to reach for his mouth, they shared a passionate kiss as Opie thrust his hips into hers.

 _It's been too long_ , Fawn said to herself. Already she could feel the familiar, yet long-absent, heat stirring in her core.

"Oh, Opie." She breathed against his lips, prompting him to pick up speed, thrusting harder, deeper. Closing her eyes, Fawn swore she saw fireworks as she came.

As a sexually active young woman, her year or so of self-imposed celibacy had been a necessary exercise in self-control. With so many failed relationships under her belt, Fawn had grown apathetic to casual relationships and casual sex. Those kinds of interactions, although sometimes physically gratifying, left her feeling empty and alone 99.9% of the time.

After six months of sparring with Opie Winston, Fawn was glad she had stuck to her guns about taking her time with him. Locking eyes with Opie as he whispered sweet-and-dirty-nothings to her, it struck her that what she was experiencing with every delicious thrust was nothing like what she was familiar with. It wasn't just sex she was having. As Opie caressed and kissed her, she just knew that what they were doing was making love.

And it kind of scared her.

Opie groaned. Feeling her tremble beneath him, he almost let himself lose control as he felt Fawn's muscles contracting around him, but he didn't want the moment to end. Not yet. _Not ever_. Besides, he knew Fawn to be a wild hothead prone to sticking her foot in her mouth and he had expected her to scream and thrash about as she came.

 _She's holding herself back_ , Opie suddenly realized.

He had felt her body grow tense at the exact moment she had gone over the edge. He could almost feel the scream that she had held back rumbling in her heaving chest. Instead, she had called his name out softly, almost reverently. Her breathy moans and soft panting as she came down from her peak incensed him and almost drove him to the edge.

 _No_ , he groaned inwardly as he used every ounce of self-control in his possession to hold back, at least until he got her to let go of herself.

"OH GOD!" Surprised, Fawn almost screamed as Opie shifted onto his knees. Holding her legs open by the back of her knees, he was pounding into her a little harder than he had intended, but he couldn't control himself. As he felt the waves of pleasure building up in him, he watched as Fawn writhed, fighting to control the beast within herself and losing. Finally allowing herself to thrash about, Fawn screamed as Opie once again felt her tighten around him. This time he let himself go as he cried out with her.

 _Actually, that was more like a roar_ , he told himself, pushing his sweaty hair back and away from his face.

Still kneeling between her now limp legs, Opie smiled as he noticed her glossy eyes and heavy lids as a small smile of contentment and satisfaction played on her pouty lips. Breathing hard himself, Opie gently pulled her up into a sitting position by the back of her neck and kissed her long and deep, as if all he needed was her and not the air in his lungs.


	16. The Day After

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Opie Winston was a well-sated and happy man as he stretched out in his king-size bed looking down at the sexy heap of woman next to him.

Fawn was laying on her stomach, her head on the pillow facing Opie with her long, lean legs tangled in the bed sheet as she enjoyed a deep slumber.

 _She's a heavy sleeper_ , the biker noted as he played with the mussed-up long red curls that trailed down her naked back. _Can't really say I blame her after I wore her ass_ out, he grinned at the thought.

Not that their first night together had been completely one-sided as Opie was half-dead with exhaustion himself. He was sore in places he hadn't been in a long time. As a matter of fact, Opie couldn't remember a time when he had to call a time-out to adult fun and games because of a sore dick. And that included the time he had spent with Lyla the porn star.

Even though Fawn carried herself with class, Opie had seen the spark of something freaky in her deep blue eyes reminiscent of her old man Tig the first time they met. The apple sure didn't fall far from that sexually adventurous tree and Opie had the extreme pleasure of learning a whole lot about Fawn Trager during the last 12 hours, the least of which being that she was a cover hog.

Slow and tender lovemaking with Fawn had been fantastic, but after their first time together, she had completely let her guard down. He wouldn't go so far as to call her a freak, but he'd be damned if the term "hot and fiery redhead" hadn't taken on a new meaning for him after last night. Opie couldn't explain how she had managed to go over a year without sex, but he was glad she had because he had reaped all the benefits and then some.

After a _long_ night spent getting to know each other on a very intimate level, the couple had finally managed to fall into an exhausted sleep just a few hours before. Finally getting together had been a long time coming and, as far as Opie was concerned, it had definitely been worth the wait. They had needed the time to get past the pissy bullshit and bickering between them. However, had Opie ever had an inkling of just how explosive and combustible it was going to be between them, he would have dragged her off to his bed a hell of a lot sooner.

Now, with only a few more hours left before dawn, Opie was contemplating the situation that culminated into the events of last night. Thinking about the beat down Fawn had laid on Emily and her subsequent arrest, Opie knew there was bound to be some fallout from that shit. He wasn't worried about Tig because they had managed to come to a quick understanding before Opie had headed off to the Morada substation to pick up Fawn. And with Roosevelt dropping all charges against her, he knew she wouldn't suffer any legal repercussions.

At this point, it was Fawn herself who was his major concern, especially since she was the shoot from the mouth first, ask questions later-type just like her father. Opie knew that once Fawn recovered from their sex-crazed madness, he was gonna catch hell from her for the Emily situation. In spite of that fact, however, he still wished he had been there to see his feisty woman take on the croweater.

Gently lifting the thin blanket that covered her, Opie let his eyes rake over her beautiful and womanly body. Spotting some minor bruising on the back of her legs, arms, and thighs, he wondered how much of that was a result of her tussle with Emily and just how much he was responsible for. Spotting the bear paw-sized hand print on her right hip, Opie had no doubt who or what had caused that.

 _Shit, maybe she is a freak after all_ , he smiled to himself, covering her up again.

Suddenly hearing his stomach grumble loudly, Opie realized that his last meal had been consumed just moments before he had received the news about Fawn from his very distraught daughter. He was half-starved, so he knew Fawn had to be as well.

Thinking he had the solution for tempering any blowback from Fawn regarding her croweater smack down, Opie threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. First, he would take a quick shower. Then he would raid the kitchen to see what he could scrounge up in the way of food.

_Because feeding my woman may go a long way in saving my ass._

* * *

Rolling onto her side, Fawn snuggled under the blanket and burrowed her face into the pillow under her head, breathing in the scent of her man. Still half asleep, she couldn't help the ear-to-ear grin that had spread across her face. As she attempted to untangle her legs from the bed sheet, Fawn winced at the little aches and pains she was feeling in her lower back and legs. With her eyes closed, Fawn ignored the pain and stretched and rolled on the bed like a frisky cat enjoying a patch of warm sunlight.

 _What an amazing fuckin' dream_ , she thought sleepily. _My badass biker can really knock some boots_.

Suddenly, Fawn's inner voice brought her out of her slumber. _Wake the fuck up, i_ _diot! It wasn't a damn dream. We just had what was probably the best night of sex of our life._

Shooting up into a sitting position, Fawn's slightly puffy eyes darted around the semi-darkened room taking in the pretty pictures on the wall, a large dresser, a chest of drawers and the extra large bed she had been lying on a moment ago as naked as the day she was born. Leaning over the side of the bed, she noted with wonder the floor littered with carelessly discarded clothing. Running her hand through her tousled bed head, she spotted the minute thong she had wildly flung from her body hanging off the corner of dresser as the haze of what she thought was a dream and reality finally combined together.

With wide eyes, the feisty 28-year old woman covered her mouth and squealed as she threw herself back on the empty bed and kicked her feet up in the air.

_Hot damn! It really did happen!_

Rolling about on the bed, Fawn giggled with glee as she thought about the epic event between her and her outlaw biker.

 _That's right, girl_! Inner-Fawn cheered. _It's official now. He's all ours and you have me, your inner whore, to thank! I really bought our "A" game out of retirement with a vengeance last night_.

Suddenly red-faced, Fawn had her first flashback since the last time she had dropped acid when she was seventeen years old as snapshots of what they had done in this bed flashed before her eyes.

"Holy shit!" She moaned as she realized that she may have bought her bag of freaky tricks out too soon in her relationship with Opie.

 _I probably set the bar pretty fuckin' high after some of the shit I did_ _with_ _and_ _to_ _Redwood last night_. _Speaking of which, where is my sexy devil?_ Fawn sat up again as she realized that she was all alone in the giant bed. _Alone, but not abandoned_ , Fawn sighed with relief as she heard noises coming from the kitchen through the slightly opened bedroom door.

Smelling the rich aroma of brewing coffee and frying bacon, Fawn's stomach made several loud and rude noises. "Shit! I'm starving." After the marathon workout she had enjoyed last night she was about ready to eat the bed sheet.

 _I'd rather eat Opie_ , inner-Fawn happily chimed in.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Fawn said out loud. Thinking about going down on her behemoth outlaw again was stoking the fire Opie had reignited in her. "But first things first." She told herself because if she didn't get some food into her stomach soon, she was in real danger of passing out.

Leaping out of bed, Fawn decided that a super fast shower was in order. Running into the en suite bathroom, she grinned as she saw the set of fresh towels that was sitting on the corner of the sink. "Aww," She sighed. "Isn't he thoughtful? And if my nose is not deceiving me, I'm about to get treated to some breakfast in bed, too."

 _Great sex, a bad boy biker who is thoughtful and kind and can cook, too? Yeah, you might want to consider holding onto to this one. He is most definitely a keeper_ , inner-Fawn advised.

Fawn scrubbed her face with her hands. "Yeah, maybe, but let's take this one step at a time, baby girl." She told her reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink.

* * *

Carrying a large tray, Opie kicked open his bedroom door to find a rumpled, but empty bed. Frowning, he wasn't happy until he realized that the shower in the bathroom was running.

 _Good,_ he found himself sighing in relief. _It's too damn early for her to try and creep out of my house to do the walk of shame._

Looking at the bed he had shared with his old lady for 12 years and thinking about what he and Fawn had done there was at the forefront of his mind. But for now, he tried to table the vague feeling that he had cheated on his dead wife.

Putting the tray of food on the side, he made quick work of straightening the tangled bed sheets and then, laying the tray table in the middle of the bed, sat against the head board, his long legs stretched out before him as he waited for his woman to get out of the shower. He smiled to himself, liking the thought that Fawn Trager was his woman.

His relationship with croweaters aside, Opie wasn't a love-'em-and-leave-'em type of man. Now that he had Fawn by her red short and curlies, he knew that he wasn't about to let her go. Hearing the water shut off and knowing she would be out soon, Opie prepared himself to find out just where her head was at. But first, he needed to get some food into her stomach. After all, she was going to need the energy because their first night together was far from over.

The bathroom door opened and there, leaning against the door frame wearing nothing but one of the oversized dark blue towels he had left for her, was the woman he suddenly realized was destined to become his old lady. With her face scrubbed free of makeup and her wild hair falling over her shoulders in large and bouncy curls, Fawn barely looked old enough to be legal, a wonderfully sexy woodland nymph.

 _And she's all mine_.

"Hey." Fawn managed to say as she drank in the sight of her bare-chested brawny outlaw wearing nothing more than a pair of boxers.

"Hey," He replied with a slight smile. "You hungry?"

"Starving." She admitted.

"Well, come on then." He beckoned her over. "I know it's kind of early for breakfast food, but it's also too late for tacos and those are my only two specialties."

Smiling, Fawn climbed onto the bed and reached for Opie. Leaning forward, he cupped her face and returned her sweet kiss eagerly, nipping at her lips. Hearing her stomach grumble, they pulled away from each other and laughed.

"Breakfast smells great," Fawn looked at the tray of food as she settled down next to Opie. "Looks pretty good, too. You sure you did all this yourself, Redwood?"

"Nope. Miss Neeta taught me a few of her tricks back in the day so I wouldn't completely starve my children to death."

"All on one plate, huh?" She said as she eyeballed the crisp bacon, sausage links and a huge mountain of scrambled eggs and cheese with a stack of buttered wheat toast.

"Yeah, and two forks." Opie held them up. "I thought we could share."

Taking a fork from him, she dropped a quick peck on his lips. "Sounds like a plan."

Seeing her hesitate, Opie coaxed her. "Dig in, babe. The sausage is turkey, the eggs and cheese are organic, and the bread is homemade, courtesy of Bobby Elvis." Fawn flashed him a surprised, but pleased look. "Hey, because of your influence, Ellie has been pushing Mary to buy more of that healthy organic shit. I don't mind eating healthier, but I do draw the line at anybody messing around with my bacon. This is my fuckin' castle where pig fat reigns supreme." He replied as he snagged a piece of the crispy bacon.

"I'm really impressed." Scooping up a forkful of the eggs, she groaned in near ecstasy as she tasted her first bite of food in nearly 24 hours. "Not bad, outlaw." She grinned appreciatively. "You know, if you'd let Neeta, maybe even Bobby, give you the hook up with a few more lessons, it would really go a long way in improving your prospects significantly."

"And what prospects would those be?"

"Whether or not I decide to keep your sexy ass around for the foreseeable future." She gave him a cheeky grin. "You might not be aware, but I'm very particular about who I let in my bed."

 _Perfect. Just the opening I was waiting for_ , Opie thought and plunged in.

"For the record, Big Red, right now you're in _my_ bed. Speaking of bed partners though, I've been kind of wondering."

"What?" Fawn speared a link and took a bite.

"Aside from the fact that you're Tigger's kid, you're a fuckin' hot chick. Why is it you haven't been snatched up yet?"

Fawn huffed. Putting down her fork to take a sip of coffee, she replied, "Twenty-eight's not ancient, asshole. You make it sound like I'm in danger of expiring on a shelf."

Opie sighed. _Be patient, you know her ass is going to be difficult._

"Baby, I didn't mean it like that." Opie assured her. "Six months is a long time to be away from home without some boyfriend showing up, looking for your crazy ass. Unless, of course, he's buried in a ditch somewhere." He scooped up a mouthful of eggs.

Digging into the food, Opie didn't notice Fawn's suddenly tense shoulders.

_Shit! How the fuck can he possibly know about Max?_

_He doesn't_ , inner-Fawn assured her. _But w_ _hile burying Max in a ditch would have probably been a good idea, you didn't, so maybe you should tell Redwood about him now_. _You know, full disclosure and shit_.

 _There's nothing to tell_ , Fawn insisted to herself.

"There's nothing to tell," Fawn said offhandedly. "I haven't been in a relationship for a while now."

"Over a year?" He asked, referring to what she had told him last night.

Taking a bite of the chewy and delicious toast, Fawn nodded.

"That's a mighty long dry spell. Any particular reason why?" Opie grabbed his mug of coffee.

She rolled her eyes. "Do you really need to know?"

"I don't _need_ to know, but I'd _like_ to know." Opie replied. "And it works both ways, baby. I'll tell you whatever you'd like to know."

She eyed him warily and sighed. "The man I was with at the time was getting a tad too _clingy_ , so I gave him his walking papers." Fawn replied, a little bit of a challenge in her voice.

Opie's eyebrows rose. _Well, shit. If that's not a warning, I don't know what is_ , he thought somewhat amused. Avoiding his gaze, Opie watched as Fawn dug into the scrambled eggs. _Sorry babe, your last man might have been a pussy and an idiot for letting you go, but I'm not. It's gonna be a hell of a lot harder getting rid of my ass._

Realizing that Fawn might be a little gun shy when it came to relationships, Opie resolved himself to letting her think she was running shit between them and ease up on his questioning. _For now_. Knowing that his woman had been doing without for so long was enough at the moment, especially since the plan was to have no one else besides him seeing to her needs in the immediate and foreseeable future.

However, thinking to change the subject, he got a surprise when Fawn opened up the dialogue regarding his own sexual past.

"My turn, Redwood," She started evenly. "I've been learning quite a bit about how MCs in general treat women. Fortunately for me, I have come to acquire a pretty high level of self-esteem, which is why I won't be a pass-around for _any_ patch."

"I would fuckin' hope not." Opie said pleasantly.

"The opposite also applies." Fawn continued. "I know that in biker world my next statement is probably totally un-PC, but I don't share my toys. _Ever_. So, if the intention is for you to keep playing hide the salami with that dime store ho-bag I tangled with yesterday, her skanky friends down at the Clubhouse, or any of them sluts out on the road, you need to let me know _before_ we go any farther."

 _Are you freaking kidding me_? Inner-Fawn protested. _W_ _e didn't vote on that shit_! _I could be accommodating if I have to_!

Having finished up what was left of the breakfast, Opie made eye contact with a pair of fiercely determined eyes, as he did his best to keep a grin off of his face.

 _Damn, I think Donna would have really liked Fawn—as long as she wasn't trying to get into my pants, that_ is. _Looks like my little beast might be somewhat territorial, so let me put her out of her misery_.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about regarding Emily," He paused. "Or anyone else."

"You don't _think_ , or you _know_? I need clarity here, Redwood, so no one can plead ignorance later." Fawn crossed her arms, her towel gaping just a little to show a beautiful expanse of creamy breasts.

" _I know_." Opie replied, his eyes glued to her unintentional cleavage. "Besides, after the ass whupping you delivered yesterday, I'm sure word has spread like wildfire among the croweaters that you are one crazy bitch not to fuck around with."

"Damn straight," Fawn replied, pretty much satisfied on that score, but refusing to let him off the hook that quickly. _After all, he needs to know whose running this shit_. "Because what went down at my shop can't happen again, Ope. You wanna tell me why she figured she could get away with that shit?"

Opie sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "She forgot her place and that was mainly my fault. I've been hooking up with Emily off and on for a while now. I know you're probably gonna find this hard to believe, but she's a nice enough woman."

"Uh, yeah. I kinda do find it hard to believe."

"Well, it was just easy being with her. I didn't really have to think about it and as long as I kept her away from my kids, I didn't have to worry about fuckin' things up for them. Somewhere along the way she must have gotten the impression that us hooking up meant more than it actually did."

"And now?"

"Now things are different, Fawn. I'm not sure where we're headed, but I really want to spend time with you finding out." Opie replied.

_You see, girl? He's into us!_

"Okay."

" _Okay_? That's it?" Opie asked a little incredulously. _And_ _women have the nerve to say men don't want to open up about shit._

"For now it is." Fawn squirmed a little as she met the hard stare of her outlaw.

_Girl, you better give him something to work with here._

"I want to spend time with you too, but—" Fawn hesitated.

"But?"

"But can we keep things on the down-low for a bit, at least with your kids? I mean, Ellie's really special to me, and so is Kenny, and until we really know where this shit is going between you and me, my concern is for them. I feel bad enough about the major trash talking I did with the hag in front of Ellie." She explained.

Fawn couldn't have said anything that would have made Opie any happier. To know that she would put her own feelings aside for the sake of his kids was just more proof that she was serious old lady material.

"Okay," Opie shrugged his shoulders casually. "But you should know that it was Ellie who gave me the head's up to go rescue your ass out of jail."

"Oh God, really?" She moaned.

"Yeah, and she was royally pissed," Opie grinned at the cringing woman. "At me."

"You see? God, she must hate me—wait, what?"

"She tore a strip off my ass," As Fawn blinked her eyes, he continued. "Told me that Emily was trying to chase you away by staking a claim and that I had to show you just how wrong she was."

"What?"

Opie nodded. "She said that I had to clean up my mess after letting the Crypt Keeper think she had the right to disrespect you."

Fawn fell back on the bed. Bubbling over with laughter, her towel slipped open, freeing her breasts to jiggle with her laughter much to Opie's delight. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Opie drawled as he lifted the breakfast tray and placed it on the floor. "So I don't think she's going to be too upset about us, but if it makes you feel better, we can fly under the radar for a while longer. In the meantime," He shed his boxers as Fawn bit her lip, her desire for him evident. "Now that we've refueled, I want to spend a little more time investigating that tattoo of yours." He smiled broadly as, with a wicked grin, Fawn pulled off her towel and flung it across the room.

* * *

Having barely pulled into Tig's driveway after Opie had so thoughtfully given her a lift to the salon to pick up her car, Fawn ended up pulling out again and heading back after receiving Lexie's text to meet her at the shop in ten minutes.

Much to Fawn's relief, the shop looked in reasonably good condition in spite of the ongoing renovations and considering the state it was in after her antics the day before. Now, sitting in the reception area as Lexie laid out the bad news, that relief was replaced with dread as Fawn tried to come to terms with the information. She was starting to feel the beginnings of a massive tension headache coming on.

"Talk about a fuckin' buzzkill," Fawn groaned as she met Lexie glum eyes. "I was having such a beautiful Sunday, too."

"Yeah, well, I had to share the bad news with somebody and since you're my partner I figured it that it should be you sitting here with me freaking out." Lexie advised glumly.

"It's not like this is our fault, damn it."

"No, it's the inspector's, but the County can't find his paperwork on the inspection that should have been filed with the Department of Buildings. They claim the file must be trapped in some backlog, and who knows how long it'll take for them to find it." Lexie said morosely.

"It could take days or weeks or months. We can't wait that long." Fawn replied. "Every day that construction is on hold, we'll be bleeding money."

"Maybe it won't be as bad as all that." Lexie reached out and patted her friend's hand.

Fawn sighed, glad that Lexie wasn't such a pessimist like her. "Do you really believe that?"

Looking around the shop, Lexie's shoulders suddenly sagged. "Not really. I was just trying to be positive."

But with all of the work coming to a grinding halt until their current dilemma was resolved, there was absolutely nothing to be positive about. After all, being told by your construction foreman that the water pipes in the newly-acquired building were severely corroded and in need of replacement was not something any business owner wanted to hear.

Apparently, the town's building inspector overseeing the initial inspection of the building before Fawn and Lexie closed on the sale had done a piss poor job of due diligence. He had reported that there were indeed some issues with the building's pipes that needed fixing, but that they were minor in nature. Those issues had been a factor in Britt Adams getting the Sellers to come down on their asking price by $15,000.

However, as the foreman and the plumbing sub-contractor prepared to make those "minor" repairs, it had come to light that the inspector had miscalculated the problem. It seemed that not only were a number of pipes on both the first and second floors of the new building corroded with rust, but there was also extensive water damage to some of the walls and the floor on the second floor.

With Fawn in lock-up, the plumbing sub-contractor had shown Lexie the problem and carefully explained that there was no quick fix solution for the existing pipes. "The only way to solve this is to completely replace all the pipes with new environmentally safe, non-corrosive ones. Afterwards, before getting the work re-inspected, your contractor can repair the damage to the floors and walls." He explained. His rough estimate for the plumbing alone was nearly $60,000—four times the amount of the $15K the previous owners had dropped from the price.

The plumber told Lexie to get a second opinion and estimate if it made her feel better, but they would more than likely be told the same thing. Gutting the building of its old pipes and replacing with new would add an additional two weeks the project. The plumbing would have to be completed before any repair work could be done, which would set back upgrading the building's electrical system in order to meet the California Building Code requirements.

"Fawn, this is going to eat up a good chunk of our reserve cash." Lexie complained.

"What did Bill have to say?" Fawn asked, referring to their construction foreman. "Did he agree with the sub-contractor?"

Lexie nodded. "Yeah. He said 85% of the plumbing is corroded. I told Bill we wanted to keep unexpected costs down, but he said patching up the pipes to save money now would end up costing us more later, especially if one of those pipes burst."

"We can't take that chance," Fawn shook her head as she stood up to stretch her legs. "We're upgrading to state of the art equipment. A flood would ruin everything. I mean, we have insurance coverage, but who wants to deal with the hassle if we're just gonna end up replacing the plumbing anyway?"

"Should we call Britt?" Lexie asked.

"Hell's yeah. Maybe she can tear that asshole inspector a new one for screwing this up." Fawn replied. "I still want a second opinion, though. If we're gonna end up paying for the inspector's stupidity, I want to make sure that was his only screw up."

"Okay, I'll start making calls first thing Monday morning." Lexie said.

"Sounds good. We need to push as hard as we have to in order to get this shit done ASAP. I'll talk to Bill about drafting a work order and since we'll probably need a new building permit, get him working on that too, which means another fuckin' fee." Fawn ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "What a sucky day this turned out to be." She pouted.

"Yeah, on top of what happened yesterday, you can't seem to catch a break. You know, I was actually surprised I reached you on your cell phone. I thought for sure they had kept you overnight."

"Nah, I managed to beat that rap."

"And that skank's ass, too! Girl, that was WICKED!" Both women eyed each other and burst out laughing.

"Yeah, I kind of lost my shit, huh?" Fawn swallowed another snort. "I bet you never had anybody go to town in the shop like that before."

"Uh, no. Trust me, we're gonna be talking about that mess for the next decade." Lexie smiled. "I called your Dad as soon as the cops pulled out of here. Was he mad? I mean, him being a biker and all, I thought maybe he would cut you some slack." She said mischievously, and then paused. "Wait a minute. If you didn't stay there overnight, how come you still got on the same torn up clothes from yesterday? When did your Dad break you out?" She asked suspiciously.

"I never said my Dad broke me out," Fawn eyes slid away from her partner's inquiring ones. "I was barely in the joint for a hot minute, a half an hour at the most and it was Opie who came to get me." She murmured.

"Opie?" Lexie asked, somewhat confused. And then it hit her. "Redwood? Aw, shit! No wonder you nearly bounced in here walking on fuckin' sunshine! He finally hit your shit, didn't he?" She asked and Fawn nodded, a big salacious grin on her face. Lexie screeched, nearly giving Fawn a heart attack. Jumping up and down in her excitement, Lexie grabbed her friend and forced her back into a chair. "Tell me every little dirty detail!"

Fawn waved her away coyly. "You don't really want to hear how I lost count of my orgasms after number ten, do ya?" She grinned as Lexie's jaw fell to her chest.

"You're fuckin' with me, right? Is that even possible because I haven't met a man yet that can get me past one." Lexie said in all seriousness, causing Fawn to almost fall out of her chair laughing. "You are so not leaving here alive unless you tell me EVERYTHING! Now start talking!"

Almost half an hour later, Lexie was using an outdated _People_ magazine to cool her flushed cheeks. "Damn, Fawn! I don't even know how you're standing after all that."

"Neither do I, to be honest." Fawn giggled. "You're lucky you caught me sitting in my driveway when you called. I almost didn't make it out of his house this morning."

"Girl, that was a dumb move on your part. I would have stayed, _especially_ after he went and made me breakfast in bed." The young woman replied dreamily.

"Uh, he cooked _me_ breakfast. Let's remember that shit."

"Man, oh man, wait until the girls find out!"

"Time out, girlfriend," Fawn put her hand up. "There is no need to discuss my sex life with Joanie and Mary Ellen just yet, especially with Ellie working here. Me and Ope are keeping this casual until we figure out where it's going, so don't tell anyone."

 _Me and Ope! I love how that sounds_ , inner-Fawn squealed.

Just then Fawn's cell went off in her pocket.

Eyeing the screen, Fawn grinned as she noted the number. "Oh boy, I think I'm about to get it." Answering the call, she replied airily, "Hello."

" _What are you doing?"_

"Me? Nothing. Just hanging out in the shop. Why?"

" _Because I want your ass over here at four."_

"Really?" Fawn hedged. "I'm so tired, all I was planning on doing was going home and sleeping for the rest of the day."

" _I don't care how tired you are. You need to come over and give me the shit I've been waiting on for quite some time." The cool authoritative voice replied evenly._

Fawn sighed. "I guess there's no way for me to get out of this, is there?"

" _No, so stop complaining and start moving your ass. No later than four." The voice replied and promptly disconnected the line._

"Shit!" Fawn complained as she shoved her phone back into her jeans' pockets.

"Uh-oh," Lexie giggled. "Sounds like your man's already calling the shots, huh?"

"No," Fawn sighed. "But apparently his SAMCRO sister is."

* * *

With his cell phone pressed against his ear, Bill Carson peered down the hall where he could hear his wife talking to her mother over the phone. Closing the door to his den, he almost tip-toed back to his chair.

" _So how did it go?"_

"Good, good," Bill replied as he sat back in his Barcalounger with his feet up, the muted sounds of the college football game playing on the new 70" HDTV he had just purchased. "I did it just like you said. I 'discovered' the bad pipes and called in her sub-contractor to back me up. It went off without a hitch, but—"

" _But what?" The voice on Bill's cell phone was dark and raspy._

"But I don't want to lose my job over this. I've been with Oswald Construction for over 25 years. I don't want any of this finding its way back to me." Bill said.

" _And neither do I and, if you do what you're told, everything will work out just fine. Just keep running up costs wherever you can without raising any suspicion, like slowing your crew down as much as possible to run up overtime or having construction materials mysteriously disappear. The next phase of the plan will hit the fan in a few weeks and should put Ms. Dawson in a more reasonable frame of mind to negotiate."_

"Okay, I can handle that. And my money?" Bill asked.

" _Is waiting for you down at the Charming Bus Depot, locker number 32. I trust you still have the key I sent you. Don't disappoint me, Bill. There are a lot of people counting on you and there's big money to be made if you continue doing your job." The caller abruptly hung up._

Bill sighed as he closed his cell and put it in his shirt pocket. He kind of felt bad for Ms. Dawson and Ms. Trager, but he and his wife Martha could really use the money.

"Besides those girls are young. They'll recover just fine and start over." Bill mumbled out loud in an effort to convince himself that what he was participating in was a victimless crime.

Bill had been working construction his whole life and, as a foreman for Oswald Construction, he had always conducted business above the board. He knew he was treading a fine line doing the dirty work for his mystery caller, but Bill tried convincing himself that, after so many years of loyal service, he wouldn't be punished for his first transgression by getting caught.

Or, at least, he hoped.

He wasn't so much worried about Ms. Dawson as he was about the other one, the redhead. That one had him shitting bricks because Bill was very well aware of her father's association with the Sons of Anarchy, the local biker gang. Tangling with that hoard of white trash ex-cons was not worth feathering his nest egg with money made under the table. He was sure, however, that the man paying him a lot of money to sabotage the beauty shop's renovations and expansion didn't have a clue—or cared for that matter—about the potential danger he was putting himself in.

 _He should_ , Bill thought. _Because should any of this go south, I'm definitely not going down alone._

* * *

Passing Fawn's battleship-sized car as she parked on the street, Tig turned into the Teller's driveway and parked his ride in a long line of SAMCRO bikes.

"So, are you ever gonna tell me where you were last night?" Tig inquired after getting off his bike and walking over to the Buick.

Stepping out of the car, Fawn slammed her door and opened the back one to let Rocco out. As the dog circled around her legs, currently encased in a pair of tight white Capri pants paired with a yellow gauzy blouse with an empire waist, Fawn aimed a well-arched eyebrow at her father who had an implacable look on his face.

The SAA, wearing his customary black ensemble of sunglasses, t-shirt, jeans, kutte and boots—along with an assortment of hidden weaponry, no doubt—probably looked pretty scary to just about anyone who saw him. But to Fawn, it took everything she was worth not to laugh.

_Poor Dad. This whole overprotective father shtick is kinda cute, but a little too late._

Reaching over to kiss her father on the cheek, she grinned. "Don't worry, Tigger. I wasn't doing anything you wouldn't have done."

"Aw fuck, Fawnzy, that's supposed to make me feel better?" He groaned.

As he followed her up the driveway, it was obvious from the bounce in her step and the glow on her pretty face that his daughter had gotten more than her fair share of dirty outlaw biker love the night before.

It shouldn't come as a surprise, especially after he let Opie be the one to spring his kid from lockup. Tig had been pretty sure that once the SAMCRO VP had left the lot, it was unlikely that he would see him or his daughter again any time soon. Just in case, he had made plans to stay the night in his dorm, not wanting to show up at his place unannounced in the middle of the night to find Opie's bike in the driveway.

Instead, he had waited until three in the afternoon to check on Fawn and found her rushing around the house getting ready for Sunday dinner after a last-minute invitation from Jolene Teller. She had been stubbornly tight-lipped about the events that occurred after her arrest, but Tig laughed to himself, knowing that refusing to share Intel was not going to fly with the SAMCRO Queens.

Climbing the porch stairs to the Tellers' front door, Fawn was startled enough to miss a step as the door flew open, almost as if someone had been lurking by the window waiting for her arrival. With quick as a snake reflexes, Tig grabbed his daughter by her bicep to keep her from falling.

"Well, look whose here." Neeta smiled, her hand on her hip as she held open the door. "Go on through, Tig. All the men are out in the backyard. And please take that horse with you." Linking her arm through Fawn's, Neeta grinned. " _This_ one's coming with me."

Her cool, calm and collected demeanor was in danger of shattering as Fawn looked down into a pair of knowing dark brown eyes. She should have known there was a reason why Jolene hadn't told her to bring a dish for dinner. She would more than likely be doing her part by providing the entertainment.

 _Aw shit_ , Fawn sighed as she let Neeta practically drag her towards the kitchen.

"Look who I found," Neeta sang out in a soprano voice.

Fawn rolled her eyes as the women in the kitchen turned as one to eye their new guest. Not shy about her sexuality, Fawn managed to maintain her composure as she noticed the knowing and cheesy grins on Jolene and Gemma. Spotting Mary, Opie's mother, and knowing what she and Opie had done in the shower, on the kitchen counter and in the living room, however, caused Fawn to turn nearly beet red.

Fortunately for her, Ellie managed to divert attention away from the fact that she was blushing by dashing across the kitchen to wrap her arms around her.

"I'm so glad to see you. Nobody would tell me shit. Are you okay?" Ellie's eyes were filled with concern as she examined her friend.

"I'm all right, honey." Fawn smiled to assure the obviously worried young woman. "I'm just so sorry that you had to witness that shit go down—"

Ellie was shaking her head. "Don't apologize, Fawn. That woman had no right coming into the shop and disrespecting you like that. She's nothing but croweater garbage and you had every right to beat the snot out of her."

Gemma nodded in satisfaction as she gave the three bean pasta salad she was working on one more toss to thoroughly mix in the dressing. "The girl's right. That Club whore forgot her place and you put her back in it. This is not on you. You're SAMCRO, sweetheart. It's your right to educate those chicken heads every once in a while."

"And that chicken head in particular had it coming since the day we met." Fawn agreed. "I'm just sorry Ellie had to see it, that's all."

"Don't be," Jolene advised. "Ellie's not a stranger to this life. You hang around bikers long enough, sooner or later you're gonna let your fists do the talking for you. Sometimes, for those hang-around bitches, getting beat the fuck up is the only language they understand."

"Yup," Gemma agreed. "Nothing gets the message across to stay away from my old man better than a little pain and maybe some blood. Then they know you mean business. Trust me, we've all been there."

"Have you been there, Mary?" Fawn asked as she sat down at the casual dining table across from Opie's mom. "Did you ever have to go buck wild on some dirty skank in front of witnesses?"

"Shit, you wouldn't know it by looking at me now, but back in the day I was a tough bitch." Mary started, taking a healthy gulp from her glass of Neeta's California Iced Tea. "My old man, Piney—Ellie's grandfather—he was a hound dog if there ever was one. No one could make me lose my shit like he could. Every once in a while I'd notice some croweater getting just a little bit too close to my old man. Then rumors would start circulating that she'd become a regular for him and that she was looking to fill in some old lady shoes. That's when I'd go around the Clubhouse and clean house. I can't tell ya how many croweaters I sent packing with bloody noses and busted lips never to be heard from again." Mary nodded in satisfaction as Fawn stared at her in wide-eyed admiration. "Gemma, too. Any old lady worth their salt has a few notches on her gun belt."

"Yeah," Gemma agreed. "But I have to say, none of us were ever as skilled as you, baby girl. You might end up giving Jolene a run for her bat-shit crazy old lady crown."

Fawn wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What are you talking about? Wouldn't you have to see those skills in action before making that call?"

Jolene hooted as she walked over to the kitchen counter. "Oh but we did, girl." She said, picking up the tablet lying next to a bowl of fruit. "We got it all right here, in epic HD." Jolene chortled as she hit a couple of icons on the tablet.

Suddenly, Fawn's jaw dropped as she heard her voice taunting Emily. Grabbing the pad from Jolene, she watched in amazement as the croweater knocked her into the shampoo bowl and her retaliating by spraying Emily with cold water before the croweater managed to tackle her onto the floor. Finding herself surrounded by the SAMCRO women as they cheered her on, Fawn covered her mouth to conceal the smile on her face as on screen she got the upper hand on Emily. As they grappled on the floor, construction workers, clients and operators shouting encouragement or running for the shop's exit, Fawn landed several excellent punches on Emily that made the older woman howl in pain.

"Where the hell did this come from?!" She gasped over the laughter of all the women in the room. Everyone except Ellie, who was inconspicuously trying to edge her way out of the room. "Freeze, little girl! You recorded this?"

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. "It started getting ugly, so I thought it might be a good idea to have it on film to prove that she was the one that came in looking for trouble. I hope you're not mad. I wasn't gonna put it on YouTube or anything. I just wanted evidence."

Fawn was about to respond when she saw herself punching Emily in her overinflated titties. She hated to admit it, but finally being able to beat the stank off that slut—and seeing herself do it—felt good. "I'm not mad. Just don't let your father see this shit. And definitely keep it away from my Dad."

"See what?" Opie asked casually as he walked into the kitchen through the French doors leading to the back yard. Hearing the commotion coming from the tablet Fawn was holding, he quirked an eyebrow. "What the fuck is that?"

 _Shit_! Once again, the big man managed to sneak up on her in near silence. "Nothing." Fawn tried to hide the pad under the table, but Opie was too quick and snatched it out of her hand.

"Holy shit!" Opie gaped at the screen before he started laughing. His secret wish of seeing Fawn go to town on the croweater having come true, he walked to the doors and called out to his brothers. "Hey, come 'ere. You gotta see this shit. My girl can kick some serious ass"

Not even realizing that he had labeled Fawn as his woman, Jolene and Gemma grinned conspiratorially at each other as Tig, followed by Jax, Clay, Bobby, Chibs, Tiki, Juice, Kenny and Abel walked in, with Maddy and TJ in their wake. Suddenly, the kitchen was packed as everyone huddled around Opie as he replayed the beat down from the beginning.

"Hey! Did you see that shot to the head?! That's my kid!" Tig beamed proudly. "Who taped this shit? I want a copy."

"I did." Ellie replied proudly.

"You did a great job, Little One," Tiki drawled. "Gorgeous and talented."

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue as she watched Tiki's eyes roam over Ellie in appreciation of what he saw with Ellie smiling back flirtatiously.

 _Will you look at this shit_ , Fawn thought in amazement. With everyone so busy breaking down Fawn's fighting skills frame-by-frame, no one seemed to notice Ellie's crush on the young biker had morphed into mutual admiration.

Turning her attention back to Opie, Fawn had to admit that she was suddenly more than a little proud that she had bested the little slut in securing his affection. Still, having everyone bear witness to her trash talking regarding Opie was something she could have done without. You would have to be blind or downright naïve not to realize that the SAMCRO VP and the spawn of Trager were an item.

Thankfully, Jolene decided to finally take pity on her. "Okay, show's over." She grabbed the tablet from Opie. "Dinner will be ready in thirty, so get your asses back into the yard. You too, Ellie."

"Huh? Why?" The girl asked disappointed.

"Because the grown up talk is about to start and you need to skedaddle," Neeta answered for Jolene. "Go on, now. Git."

Not having had a chance to say a proper hello when his girl arrived, Opie stayed behind. Leaning over Fawn as she sat in the chair, he lifted her chin up gently and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. "You gonna be okay?" He said in a low tone.

"Probably not," She whispered back. "Keep an eye out for an SOS text from me and come rescue my ass."

"In a heartbeat." He whispered back before kissing her again.

"Oh, go on with you," His mother ordered. "She'll be fine."

As Fawn looked around at the avidly grinning women, she shook her head.

 _Oh no I won't_!

* * *

Having banished the SAMCRO kids, including the new Prospect, to the family room to play video games, the patches were now free to discuss at length the same new "relationship" that was at that moment the subject of intense discussion in the kitchen.

"What the fuck?" Opie blustered before taking a swig from his beer bottle. "You are all worse than a bunch of gossipy old hens."

"Hey, brother, you owe me." Tiki declared. "I stepped aside so you could hit that shit. The least you can do is share."

"Um, I'm right here, asshole!" Tig said irritably. Talking shit about women wasn't nearly as much fun when the subject happened to be your own fuckin' kid.

"Besides, Tiki, you didn't step aside. You were _shoved_ aside," Jax laughed. "Those two have been dancing around each other for so long that it wasn't a question of _if_ , but _when_."

"And not for nuttin', brutha, but the two of ya 'ave put us all through the shyte watching this mating dance of yours," Chibs chimed in. "The lad's right. You owe us."

"Since it's _extremely_ obvious that you two have hooked up and we're all brothers here, it's only fair that we get full disclosure." Jax added cheekily.

"Fuck off. You really think I'm gonna fall for that shit? This coming from the man who claims to be my best friend, but who still has not shared the details of his Oak-Town hook-up with Jolene all those years ago." Opie eyed his brother as a furtive look crossed Jax's features. "Uh, yeah, I didn't think so, bro. I ain't telling y'all shit."

"Yeah, that might be for the best." Clay replied. "After all, with her daddy sitting right here, it should be on a need to know basis and right now, Tiggy don't need to know." He looked at his former SAA. "I feel your pain, brother. I went through worse with shithead over there." Clay nodded towards his son-in-law.

"Yeah, at least Fawn's legal." Bobby chimed in with a wicked grin.

"I think everyone's up to speed on that part already, asshole." Jax growled.

"No worries, boys. I don't have any issues with my brother." Tig lied with a straight face. "Fawnzy's a grown woman and after watching that video, it's pretty clear to me that she knows how to handle her shit just like her old man. Besides, Ope and me are cool. We have an understanding."

"This oughta be good." Tiki laughed.

"He fucks shit up with Fawnzy, I'll give her my KA-BAR to carve his ass up and then I'll finish the job." Tig said reasonably as six pairs of eyes landed on him. "Hey, it's fair. Since he's my brother and all, I promised I wouldn't share that bit of Intel with my kid just yet. You know, professional courtesy and shit."

"Yeah," Opie drawled. "Tiggy's being really generous with me."

Jax eyed both his VP and SAA. He wasn't quite sure if they were serious or screwing around with each other. If they were being serious, Jax could hear the underlying menace in Tig's words and the challenge in Ope's. Whatever was going on, Jax would make sure he kept a close eye on the both of them.

A very close eye.

* * *

With dinner and dessert finished and the Tellers' kitchen clean and sparkling once again, it was a happy and content Fawn who was stretched out on a chaise in the backyard with Opie at her side. As much as she had somewhat resented the third degree she had been subjected to by the SAMCRO women before dinner, the evening had evolved and all talk about Opie and Fawn had subsided, allowing the new couple to just be.

There was a romantic glow in the air as the backyard was dimly illuminated with beautiful Japanese lanterns, providing enough cover for the couples to nuzzle and kiss as everyone relaxed after enjoying a big meal. But it was getting late and a few Club members had already broken rank, including Tig, to head back to the Clubhouse for some adult fun. Snuggling up against Fawn—and copping a furtive feel every now and then—gave Opie the idea that calling it a night sounded like a good plan.

"Hey, Ma. You about ready for me to take you home?" He called out casually.

Mary snorted. Judging by the look on his face, she realized that there was only one acceptable answer to that question. "I was actually enjoying myself, Ope, but since it's obvious that _you_ want to hit the sack early, maybe it's best if you take me home now."

Fawn stood up and stretched her arms over her head. "Hitting the sack early sounds like heaven. I'm exhausted."

"Oh, I bet you are, sweetheart." Fawn could almost hear the smirk on Gemma's face, but was having trouble seeing her in the semi-darkness as everyone laughed.

"Hey, I'm looking forward to hitting it too, just as soon as you people get the hell out of my house." Jax teased, a leer on his face as he hugged his old lady from behind.

"I may go for a ride after I drop Mom and Ellie off. Relax a little bit before going to bed." Opie advised with a straight face.

Jolene looked up at Jax and eyed her husband knowingly. _Uh huh. A ride straight into Fawn's bed._

After the women got done saying their good-nights and the remaining men bro-hugged each other, the Tellers walked all of their guests to the front door. They watched Opie pack his mother and daughter into his pickup truck and, with Kenny following on his ride, headed in one direction as Fawn drove her Buick in the opposite direction heading to her place.

"Ten bucks says Ope doubles back to see Fawn tonight." Jax nuzzled his wife's neck before closing the door.

"No way, easy rider," Jolene grinned. "That's a sucker bet."


	17. Construction Woes

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

For the first time since Fawn had opened that morning, the shop was empty. Aside from the occasional construction worker making a brief appearance before disappearing again, she was all alone. Mary Ellen had the day off and Joanie was outside smoking a cigarette and chattering on her cell phone. Lexie, who had a morning dentist appointment, would be back soon, so Fawn had sent Ellie to the Post Office before she headed over to Nicky's to pick up lunch.

With no appointments scheduled until after two o'clock, Fawn had taken advantage of her alone time by calling Tina. It was her first opportunity in a long while to touch base with her friend and give her a complete update on all that had been going on over the past few weeks. With the new plumbing installed and awaiting final inspection and renovations moving along at a quick pace, Fawn was finally able to find a free minute to get a hold of Tina who had only just returned from a two-week tropical holiday on St. Maarten.

" _Oh my God," Tina breathed reverently. "So you finally saw fit to let that poor man into your pants, huh?"_

"Hell's yeah! And let me tell you, he's hardly been out of them ever since, too." Fawn bubbled over, giggling like a teenage girl as she unpacked a box of beauty supplies, the Bluetooth device in her ear giving her free reign to work. "It's always a good sign when they keep coming back for more, right?"

" _You know it is, honey," Tina laughed. "But just to be sure, I need to hear every little dirty detail." She teased._

Although over the years Fawn had grown to love Tina like a surrogate mother, theirs was not a conventional mother-daughter relationship. What Fawn would never in a million years dream of sharing with Colleen flowed effortlessly with Tina. If anyone knew her inner demons, joys and sorrows it was definitely her best friend. Not afraid to shoot from the hip, Tina had helped Fawn through many tough times with her sage advice and unconditional love. Unlike her mother, Tina didn't have a judgmental bone in her body when it came to her, so Fawn, who lacked a filter, had no problem sharing the intimate details of her life with the older woman.

Fawn was in danger of busting a gut over all the happy girl noises her friend was making as she listened to Fawn relate in graphic detail her first time with her outlaw biker. "Damn, Tina. You sound more excited than I was while it was happening."

" _Oh, somehow I sincerely doubt that, sweetheart. Besides, after all the trauma you've put me through this past year and a half of self-imposed celibacy, I deserve this moment of X-rated giddiness." Tina retorted. "I hate to break it to you, girl, but you can be down right bitchy when you're not getting plowed on the regular. Thank God that outlaw biker of yours went all cave man on your stubborn ass. By the way, don't think I didn't notice how you totally skipped over the part of how you ended up in a jail cell in the first place."_

"I was gonna tell ya," Fawn insisted. "I just thought you'd appreciate hearing the good stuff first."

" _Uh-huh. Sweetheart, I know you. I already know that part of the story is also the good stuff, so dish."_

"I'll sum it up for you in four words: Cheap blond dye job." Fawn said succinctly.

" _Ha! So that skank finally slapped some sense into you by going after your man?"_

"Forget that mess. She went after _me_! And in my own shop, no less." Fawn replied as she took several empty boxes to the back room for Ellie to break down later for recycling. "I had no choice but to beat the stank off that bitch. If you want, I can even send you the play-by-play on video."

" _You better, bitch! It's been a while since I've seen Whack-a-'Ho Fawn in action, but tell me about it first." Her friend insisted._

Listening avidly, Tina alternated between shocked gasps and hoots of laughter as Fawn related for probably the 10,000th time how she practically ran the croweater out of town on a rail.

" _I may not know the ho-bag, but right now I want to shake her hand for making you finally see the light. Who knows how much longer you would have kept that damn chastity belt on."_

"Yeah," Fawn bit her lip to keep herself from grinning like a fool at the thought of her tall and handsome Redwood. "I guess I do owe her that much."

" _Whew!" Fawn could almost see Tina fanning herself. "Sounds like you got a stick of dynamite on your hands. Take your time with that tall drink of water." Tina advised._

"Take my time? It took us six months to see each other naked. I think I got taking my time covered." Fawn replied.

" _You know what I mean, Fawn Trager. With you and your father reconciled, your head's in a good place now. Let yourself enjoy being with someone again and try not talking yourself out of a relationship before one has had a chance to start."_

"I won't do that." Fawn replied weakly.

" _Not on purpose, but I know how you think, sweetheart. I know it wasn't easy for you in the past to let yourself get too attached to a man, but your daddy issues are over and done with. There's no reason to think that you have to be the first one to bolt, so stop looking for an exit and stay the fuck right where you are." Tina said gently._

"Shit, Tina," Fawn swiped at her eyes. "Am I that transparent?"

" _No, you're not. You've just been hurt that badly and I know what that's like, but all that's over now." Tina sighed. "And I'm done playing Mother Hen for today. Now I want to hear about the renovations. How's it going?"_

"Fine. Everything's fine." Fawn replied just a little too quickly and eagerly. "I'd rather talk about your vacation. Did you hit the nudie beach?"

_Disregarding Fawn's glib attempt to refocus the conversation away from her, Tina kept on point. "I said I was going to stop nagging you, but I can't if you're going to avoid telling me shit." She said anxiously. "What's going on?"_

With a dramatic sigh of her own, Fawn told Tina about the recent problems regarding the plumbing for the salon and the huge wad of cash it had taken to correct the situation. "But all that's been taken care of and we're back on schedule."

" _So the salon's doing okay now, cash-wise?" Tina questioned skeptically._

"Sure, I mean, it's going to be a little tight going forward, but this kind of shit happens all the time during construction." Fawn assured her friend. "Like a lot of things in life, we're just taking it one day at a time. Because the plumbing set us back a couple of weeks, we now have two sub-contractors working at the same time, one installing the elevator and the other finishing the upgrade to the electrical wiring. With so much going on at the same time, it's been really hard taking care of clients in all this mess, but it was the only way to avoid putting off the grand opening for a month past our original date. It sucks, but Lex and I decided that we're not gonna let it get us down."

" _And that's the kind of attitude that's going to make this whole adventure worthwhile, sweetheart. I have no doubt that you and Lexie will get past all these roadblocks and when it's all done, that shop is going to be something else. I can't wait to see the final pictures." Tina said._

Fawn snorted. "To hell with pictures. There's only one way you're seeing the finished product and that's live and in person when I fly your ass down here for the Grand Opening. After all the advice and ideas you've given us during this expansion, the least we can do is have you here on the big day and show you a good time, Charming-style."

" _That sounds wonderful," Tina replied hesitantly. "But it's your special day. You and Lexie should be the focus of attention and the last thing you need is to be fussing over me the whole time."_

Fawn tossed one of the shampoo bottles she had in her hands back into the box she had just opened and crossed her arms under her chest. Her attitude came across loud and clear over the phone. "You must have lost your damn mind in St. Maarten if you think I'm opening _Take Five_ without you by my side. I've already written Colleen off as a no-show and I don't really give a shit, but if I have to do that with you too it's gonna hurt like hell."

_Tina bit her lip, the thought of not being there to show her support for the young woman she loved like her own killing her. "Okay!" She blurted. "Just don't buy the ticket. You have enough expenses to worry about. Just let me know when and I'll be there. I promise."_

* * *

After her conversation with Tina, Fawn was actually starting to buy into Lexie's glass-half-full mentality. They may have been struggling at the moment to get their dream salon up and running, but once they did, they could take pride in knowing that they had given their all in the form of blood, sweat and tears to make it happen. Sometimes, the satisfaction of knowing that accomplishing the impossible was possible after all was its own reward.

At least that was Fawn's new philosophy as she went about preparing her station for her first afternoon appointment after having lunch with the girls. It had taken Ted Parks, however, less than ten minutes to convince Fawn that belief in the power of positive thinking was for chumps.

"I'm gonna need you to explain this shit to me again," Fawn said tersely, her back rigid and her shoulders tense.

Standing in the new space in the midst of a bunch of workers going about their business, Fawn and Lexie stood opposite the San Joaquin County Department of Public Works Building Inspector, the aforementioned Ted Parks.

Ted wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he took in the stares of two very angry young women. _Shit, these two broads are making this a lot harder than I initially thought_.

"I've already explained it twice." He replied somewhat annoyed. Considering the power he had to make or break a business with a carefully worded inspection report, he was unaccustomed to having his ability to make such determinations fall under such intense scrutiny.

"Well, guess what, _Ted_. Be prepared to explain it to us however many times it's gonna take for me to be able to recite it in my sleep," Fawn replied angrily. "Because I want to know exactly whose throat I need to tear out."

The 55-year old balding man in denial, who was sporting the classic comb-over, moistened his lips. The more he had to repeat the laundry list of misrepresentations and outright lies that had been carefully scripted for his delivery, the greater the chance he would slip and show his hand. Deciding that the best defense was offense, he flipped the script in order to make himself look like the fall guy for someone else's fuck up.

"Ladies, trust me. If I could make this whole situation go away for you I would. Off the record, I think that what the State of California is doing is totally unfair and could have a crippling effect on small business owners, but there's nothing I can do about it. With the new Going Green initiative, the State has made a number of changes to the building codes with respect to the electrical wiring required for all duly licensed salons in buildings that are more than forty years old." Ted was in the process of explaining but stopped when it looked like Fawn was about to lose her shit as she ran her hands through her luxurious mane of dark red hair.

"See, that's where you're losing me, Ted because not only did we bring this building up to specs with the remodel, but you put your stamp of approval on the final work." Fawn said bitterly.

"That may have been the case before, but it's not the case now. With the new rules in effect, this building no longer conforms to state mandate and I cannot grant you legal occupancy." Ted replied, his tone ingratiating and quite annoying.

"Now that's where you lose me, pal," Ian Broderick, the burly head foreman for the electrical crew that had installed the new wiring, stated. "I _can't_ understand how this shit has only been brought to our attention today—a week after my firm received the State's signed endorsement approving the work—only to be followed by this piece of shit in the mail two days ago claiming that the electrical work was now in a state of non-compliance." The angry man waved a fist full of official-looking documents stamped on the cover page with the word "REJECT" in red. "You gonna stand there and tell me that this shit wasn't preventable?"

 _Absolutely_ , Ted thought, _If I want to receive my pay-off_ _._

Ted tittered slightly. "I apologize, but you know how bureaucracies work. The member of my staff responsible for relaying all changes and updates to the building codes was on vacation. The new rules were actually sitting on his desk for two weeks and they didn't end up on mine until about a week ago, which is why you only received notification this week." Ted shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes these things just happen."

"Yeah, and it totally sucks when they do." Lexie said angrily. "As you can see, all the drywall has already been installed."

"Yes, I can see that, but like I said, there's nothing I can do to help. The drywall needs to come down and the system must be brought up to specs. Then I can come in, do a final inspection and hopefully push the approval through as quickly as possible."

" _Hopefully_?" Fawn retorted. "Your office screwed up big time, so I'm gonna need something more concrete than you wishing on a fucking star."

"I'm sorry, but you won't be getting it from me. Now it's up to your contractor to re-do the job according to the new regulations. But I can say that I was very impressed with the work during my first inspection. If all goes well, I don't see that there should be any more problems. Hopefully." Ted smiled uneasily.

"Shit!" Fawn fumed as she stalked back and forth.

"Well, I must go." The County Inspector winced as he saw the three angry faces practically burning a hole through his head. "Please feel free to call for an appointment as soon as you are ready for the inspection." He babbled quickly as he headed for the stairway leading to the main floor.

Lexie sighed hopelessly as she looked at her partner. "If I didn't know any better, Fawn, I would think somebody didn't want us to finish this damn project."

Fawn put an arm around her shoulders. "I know, but let's not get paranoid just yet. I guess this shit is just a part of doing business, right?"

"Right." Lexie said glumly.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you now," Ian started. "I wish I could tell you that crap like this never happens, but I've been in this business for over thirty years, and I can count on one hand with two fingers down the number of jobs I've handled that went from start to finish without any problems. Try not to take this shit personally."

"Thanks." Fawn smiled weakly. "It's just so frustrating handing out a hell of a lot of money in order to fix other people's mistakes. What do you think this is going to run us?"

The foreman waved the papers. "My people are working on drafting a new budget as we speak based on the revised info the County sent. I should have something for you in a couple of days."

* * *

It was almost 9:00 p.m. when Opie entered his house once again after taking Rocco for an after-dinner walk several times around the block. The giant dog excitedly ran circles around his long legs before jumping up, his paws firmly on Opie's chest, and licked his face happily as if showing Opie his appreciation for spending time with him.

"Okay, I get it," Opie rubbed the dog's head before gently pushing him off. "I like you, too. Just don't tell your mom."

Leaving his kutte on, Opie headed to the kitchen where he could hear movement and the clanging of pots and pans as Fawn cleaned up. Leaning against the doorway unnoticed, Opie watched the sexy redhead go about scraping plates into the garbage disposal before setting them in the dishwasher.

"Hey," He started softly, which apparently wasn't soft enough as Fawn almost jumped out of her skin, dropping the plate she was holding with a crash into the sink. "Hey, you okay?" With a furrowed brow, Opie pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the kitchen towards Fawn as she turned to face him.

"I'm fine," Fawn tried to smile as Opie lightly ran his fingers through her silky hair. "Just a little distracted. You should really consider wearing spurs on your boots or something as an early warning of your approach, though. Just saying." She teased as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Cradling her face in his massive hands, Opie dipped his head and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Purring like a kitten, Fawn pulled herself closer to him and eagerly returned his kiss. "Mmm, I've been dying to do that all night." He stated as they pulled apart. Thanks to Fawn's ban on PDAs in front of his children, this was the first time they'd been able to lock lips since Fawn dropped by after work.

With their arms wrapped around each other and their foreheads touching, Fawn sighed contently, grateful to finally be able to feel something other than anger and frustration. It was tiresome trying to stay confident and self-assured all the time regarding her decision to go into business for herself, especially after a day filled with one construction issue after another. Sometimes a girl just needed a good cuddle.

"Thanks, Redwood." Fawn smiled before catching his lips in quick kiss.

Thinking she meant to thank him for walking Rocco, Opie shrugged his shoulders. "No biggie. That mutt's actually starting to grow on me."

"Thanks for that too, but that's not what I meant." Fawn said quietly. "I mean _this_. It feels good having you to come home to after a horrible day, especially since you're part of a package deal." She said referring to the kids and Mary.

"Something happen at work?" Opie pulled away in order to look her in the eyes. During dinner, he had noticed that something was off with Fawn. Usually in possession of a hearty appetite, all she did was bat pieces of her meatloaf around on her plate, her fork coming into contact with her mouth once, maybe twice.

Almost tempted to spill her guts to the man who had become such an important part of her life during the last several weeks, Fawn barely pulled herself back. But the last thing she wanted was to go crying to the new man in her life about how she and Lexie were in over their heads with the salon and how they were near broke with all of the unexpected expenses.

Refusing to let herself fall back on the Club for help, Fawn shook her head. "Nope," She lied. "It was just another typically exhausting day."

"You do look tired," Opie started. _And sad and frustrated and tense_ , he thought to himself, not at all buying what she was selling. "How about you stay the night, baby? Let me take care of you and make you feel better." He offered with an eyebrow wiggle.

Fawn laughed. "Throw in a bubble bath and I might be tempted."

"Done." Slowly backing her up against the kitchen counter, Fawn giggled and squealed as Opie's hands disappeared under her tank top.

"I said I _might_ be tempted, Redwood!" She swatted his paws away.

Ignoring her half-hearted protest, he trailed kisses down the side of her face to her neck, where he nibbled and sucked as his hands found a new home on her ass.

Catching herself as her eyes started to roll around in her head, a half wanton moan escaping her lips, Fawn found that trying to push Opie away was like pushing against a brick wall. "Baby, stop. We're not alone." Opie suddenly stopped, his head falling on her shoulder with a dramatic sigh. "Ellie's in her room and Mary will be back from her movie by 11:00."

"Fawn," He muffled against her neck, inhaling the beautiful rose scent of her skin. "Who are we fooling? I mean, my kids practically threw us together and I think I saw the video of you kicking Emily's ass on the local news the other night." He teased.

"Humor me," She stroked his hair lovingly. "Besides, I don't want to traumatize anyone with my cries of passion as you fuck me thoroughly."

Opie raised his head and looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. "Clubhouse?"

"Give me five minutes to finish up in here and I'm all yours, Outlaw." Fawn promised wickedly.

"Alright, woman," Opie kissed her forehead. "That's all you had to say. Five minutes, then I'm dragging your ass out of here."

* * *

The garage had closed hours before, but with the warm weather and a surprise visit from several members of the Rogue River charter came an impromptu gathering on the lot of Club members, hang-arounds and croweaters. There was music playing as the beer and liquor flowed with the aroma of weed hanging heavy in the air.

Pulling into the lot, Opie maneuvered his bike into his usual spot, noticing that, in spite of the late hour on a weeknight, Jax was still around. Sliding off the bitch seat, Fawn watched as a few of the bolder croweaters broke away from the gathering to parade their goods stuffed into micro-minis, cutoff shorts, and bikini tops in front of Opie for his amusement.

Smirking, Opie occupied himself with lighting a cigarette as he watched Fawn from the corner of his eye. With a death glare stare aimed at the small group of Club women, as Fawn whipped off the helmet she was wearing and stepped up to him. Taking the cigarette from his lips, she replaced it with her mouth as she laid a searing kiss on him meant to send a message. Deciding to help get her point across, Opie pulled Fawn against his body, one hand possessively on her denim-clad ass and the other kneading her tit.

Rolling their eyes at each other as the couple lost themselves in their passionate embrace, the croweaters turned on their sky-high heels and headed back to the party, the fact that the SAMCRO giant was off-limits coming across loud and clear. For now, at least.

"Mission accomplished." Opie drawled as Fawn stepped back.

Looking over her shoulder and finding the Club whores gone, Fawn smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about." She put the lit cigarette back in between his lips.

Seeing her blue eyes blazing with fire for him, Opie flicked his unsmoked cigarette away and wrapped an arm around Fawn's slender waist and gently nudged her towards the Clubhouse. Walking through a crowd of patches, none of which looked familiar to Fawn, Opie barely paused long enough to say the briefest of hellos as he led her inside. Finally seeing the familiar faces of SAMCRO spread out on several of the couches, Fawn smiled as she caught Bobby's eye and waved before Opie grabbed her hand and nearly dragged her to his dorm.

"There goes your VP." Bobby nudged his head at Jax, who had been in deep conversation with Chibs and the SAA of the Rogue River charter.

Looking over his shoulder, Jax caught the tail end of Fawn disappearing around the corner. "I'll be right back." He said, placing his half-empty beer bottle on the edge of the pool table.

"You sure that's a good idea right now, brother?" Bobby laughed. "He looked pretty intent on achieving a specific goal."

Jax smirked. "Hey, duty calls."

* * *

Barely stepping a foot inside Opie's dorm, Fawn quickly found herself half-naked and prostrate on his bed, her back arching as her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head. With her long, lean legs thrown over her lover's shoulders, she writhed and moaned quite loudly as he continued his assault on her with his tongue and fingers.

Opie could barely keep himself from groaning as Fawn's cries of pleasure awoke the beast in him. Raising his head and then his body, Opie flashed her a roguish grin as Fawn watched him with half-hooded eyes, her kiss-swollen bottom lip caught between her teeth. With her delicate ankles resting on his broad shoulders, Opie was about to plunge himself into her when the persistently loud pounding on his door finally made its way through to both of his throbbing heads.

"Shit! Who the fuck is that?" He said gruffly.

"Whoever it is, make 'em go away, Redwood!" Fawn panted. "You leave me now and I will fuckin' kill you!"

Hearing the seriousness in the passionate redhead's voice, Opie leaned back to grab one of his size 16 steel-toed boots lying on the floor and, with a heave threw, it so that it slammed against the door.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DOOR, DAMN IT!" The SAMCRO VP roared.

Turning back to his woman, Opie was about to slip inside the haven that was her tight body when his ear drums were nearly split with the sound of a couple of large fists slamming against the door, steadily increasing in its tempo.

"Fuck it all to shit!" Opie raged. Pulling off of Fawn, he snatched up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and haphazardly covered the naked woman. Stalking across the room, Opie threw open the door to find his best friend and President standing there.

"What the fuck, Jax? Can't a brother get laid?"

With a raised eyebrow, Jax looked his brother up and down, noting his crossed arms over his heaving chest all the way down to his big bare feet. "You know, I can't believe it's taken me nearly 17 years to get back at your ass for cock-blocking me with Jolene, but at least _I_ put my boxers on before I opened the damn door." He said wryly. "Unfortunately, I'm not here to give you the good news that Jolene's pregnant. I need you in the Chapel. We have a situation."

* * *

That had been over an hour ago and now Fawn was lying in a frustrated and half-naked heap on Opie's bed.

 _What a way to leave a woman hanging_ , inner-Fawn said irritably. _I would have sworn that Redwood was above that kind of shit._

 _I guess the call of duty is more important than getting his woman off at the moment_ , Fawn thought sourly.

She had hoped that her outlaw would return soon but as the minutes continued to crawl past at a snail's pace, she realized that whatever was happening must be serious. With a sigh, Fawn sat up and retrieved her scattered clothes. Quickly getting re-dressed, she stepped into the bathroom to take a brush to her tangled mop of hair. It was just then that she heard the door open and close. Popping her head out of the doorway, she saw Opie standing there with a resigned look on his face.

"Shit, you got dressed?"

"Yeah, call it a premonition, but I had the feeling things were heading south for us tonight, Redwood." Sauntering over, Fawn wrapped her arms around his waist. "That look on your face, I've seen it before. You look like a man whose about to tell me he's taking off for parts unknown."

Normally, going out on a run at the last minute was nothing new. But despite how much Opie loved the open road and his brothers, he wished he could kick the Rogue River President in the ass for calling on the mother charter for some help tonight.

Opie sighed as he pressed his forehead against hers. "You're right on the money, babe. I gotta head out of town for a few days."

 _Damn_ , Fawn thought. _After a truly craptacular day, I really need you here, baby_. Acknowledging her need for him, however, scared the shit out of her, so she quickly pushed it away it.

"Are you leaving in the morning?" She asked hopefully.

"Nah, I'm leaving right now." As Fawn's sad eyes widened, he sighed. "I know, baby, lousy fuckin' timing."

She reached up to grab hold of his beard as she looked up into his eyes. "Are you gonna be in any danger?" She whispered.

"I don't think so," Opie managed to say with out betraying his doubt on the subject. He was more concerned with trying to hide how moved he was that she was concerned for his well-being and safety. "One of the charters has run into a little problem and needs some assistance. Hopefully, our presence is enough and we won't run into any big issues, but we may end up visiting a charter or two before we head back. You wanna help me pack my saddlebags?"

Reaching up on tip toe, Fawn tenderly kissed and nibbled at his lips before setting back down on her feet and pulling out of his embrace. "Not really since it means you have to go, but let it never be said that I'm not a trooper. Come on, Soldier Boy. Let's get you ready for the road."

Opie felt like shit as he looked at her forlorn face. Something had him feeling like there was something seriously bothering his woman, and he hated like hell not being able to get to the bottom of it before leaving.

Pulling his saddlebags out of his small closet, Opie got to the task of packing what he needed. Hopefully, the quicker he left, the sooner he would be back in Charming where he could work on finding out just what the hell Fawn was hiding from him.

* * *

_Tonight is a Ben and Jerry's night if there ever was one._

Sitting cross-legged on the couch in the living room wearing a pair of worn and oversized pajama pants and a large t-shirt, Fawn dug into a pint of Cake Batter ice cream as one of her favorite old movies played on the television. Even though her blood-shot eyes were fixed on the screen, watching as Norma Shearer and Joan Crawford practically duked it out in the dressing room of a high-end 1940's couturier's showroom, her mind kept wandering back to her problems.

Not even the catty antics of _The Women_ and 5,000 calories-worth of her favorite treat were enough to get her out of the dumps. Adding insult to injury, and proving that Fawn wasn't very good company in her current funky state of mind, Rocco had abandoned his preferred spot on the couch next to her to stretch out on Tig's waterbed instead. Suddenly dissatisfied with the ice cream and disgusted with herself, Fawn dumped the container on the coffee table just as her cell phone went off. Not sure she could handle hearing her Redwood's comforting voice without breaking down, Fawn sighed with relief as she saw by the caller i.d. that it wasn't him and answered the phone.

"Hey, lady." Fawn greeted, feigning an upbeat mood. "What the fuck are you doing calling me on a Friday night? Shouldn't you be out on the town with one of your many boy toys?" She smiled as she heard the light-hearted tinkling of laughter on the other end of the line.

" _I would be had I not dumped his ass right after our trip to St. Maarten. Two weeks was just way too much time to spend together on our first getaway. He was young, handsome and entirely too boring." Tina replied._

"I'm sorry to hear that." Fawn said. "Your track record is getting almost as bad as mine. I think Frank spoiled you for other men."

_Tina sighed wistfully. "Yeah, I think you're right. I guess I do have a weakness for fascinating older men, which seem to be an endangered species around here. Anyway, I just got home from work and I thought I'd give you a call to see how you were doing."_

"Okay. I guess." Fawn replied unenthusiastically.

" _You guess? You don't know?"_

"Oh I _know_. I'm actually kinda bleh right now, especially after downing almost an entire pint of ice cream." Fawn said before letting out an indelicate belch.

" _Oh no, sweetheart. Did something happen with Opie?" Tina asked concerned. Spoken like a true mother, however, she quickly followed it up with, "Please tell me you did not mess that shit up already!"_

"Gee, thanks!" Fawn rolled her eyes. "And no, everything is just fine with my love life, believe it or not. As a matter of fact, Ope's about the best thing going on for me right now. It's my new business venture that has my thong in a twist."

" _Damn it. What happened?"_

"Ugh! I don't want to talk about it."

" _Okay, so now I'm really worried. If you're not willing to talk about it, it must be bad. Tell me, Fawn. Tell me everything." Tina ordered firmly._

Hearing the deep concern in her friend's voice, Fawn finally broke down and spilled the details on the new problem she and Lexie were now facing. After keeping the severity of the situation from Opie, it felt good to finally have someone act as a sounding board for all of her frustrations.

" _$25,000?!" Tina was incredulous when Fawn advised her of the sub-contractor's most recent estimate for the new electrical work required by the State. "Is he fuckin' insane?"_

"Hold on. That's just for parts. Labor may run another $10,000." Fawn advised as Tina reacted with shock. "I just don't know what we're gonna do. If we don't get the cash together soon and give the go ahead on the project, we're just gonna get further and further behind. The building permits will expire, bills will go unpaid, and any hope of getting this business up and running will go up in smoke." Fawn explained.

" _And all other money sources are tapped out?" Tina asked._

"Lexie won't go to Gina and I can't say I blame her, especially after we both made such a big deal about doing this on our own." Fawn replied.

" _So I take that to mean that you're not willing to ask your father for some help either." Tina stated._

"It's not that I'm unwilling, Tina, but he already gave me a big check and if I ask him for more, he's just gonna suggest I bring the Club in on this and I don't want to turn the offer down a second time." Fawn explained. "I know it sounds like I'd rather cut my nose off to spite my face, but if bringing in another partner is what's gonna fix this mess, I'd rather it not involve the man I'm currently sleeping with. I've been sitting here for hours trying to come to terms with the fact that I may just have to pull up my big girl panties and call it quits." She sighed.

_There was a long pause on the line. "No, you won't."_

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, girl, but I don't see how anything else would be possible. Money doesn't grow on trees and the Bank of Fawn is about to declare Chapter 11."

" _That may be true," Tina paused. "But the Bank of Tina is doing quite well and open for business—"_

"No." Fawn responded quickly and adamantly.

" _Fawn, hear me out. I—"_

"I said 'No', Tina." Fawn jumped up from the couch to pace back and forth in her anxiety. "I love you for making the offer, but—"

" _But I see absolutely no reason why I shouldn't help you out if that's what you need to keep this project going." Tina insisted. "Personally, I think your father would jump at the chance to give you what you need, but I know my Fawn and that stubborn Trager pride all too well. I'll save face for you by giving you the money myself." Tina insisted._

"Haven't you ever heard that the fastest way to lose a good friend is to lend them money? Tina, I'm already losing my shirt over this. I don't want to lose you too by borrowing money from you that I'm not sure I can ever pay back."

" _Who the fuck said anything about borrowing?" Tina asked as if insulted. "You know that Frank left me very well provided for. Hell, if he were alive, there is no question in my mind that he himself would give you whatever you needed. The money he left would be put to much better use with you than sitting in the bank."_

"I _can't_ take money from you." Fawn flopped down on the couch and ran her hand through her hair. "I _won't_."

_There was a long pause and Fawn could almost hear her friend's mind calculating her next move. "Okay, then. It's not a loan or a gift. It'll be an investment. Make me a silent partner."_

"What?"

" _Now listen and think about this before saying no. You're right—a loan between friends could not only get messy, but in this case it would only cover the cost of this current problem. You told me that your reserves are dry. If anything else happens down the line, what will you do then?"_

"Not much, except try to borrow more money," Fawn responded. "Continuing to dig the hole of financial ruin for ourselves deeper and deeper."

" _Exactly, but if I buy a third of the business, not only covering the money for the electrical work, but also injecting some capital to keep you flush, the business will be on much more stable ground." Tina reasoned._

As Tina spoke, a small hope began to grow in Fawn's chest. "You really think we could do this?"

" _Of course we could. I remember how much you dished out to buy into the business. What if I matched it and threw in another 50%?"_

"That would be a fuckin' godsend." Fawn marveled.

" _But this is your baby, sweetheart. We can work it out so that you and Lexie can buy me out in about five years with the business reverting in its entirety back to the two of you." Tina suggested. "Do you think me becoming a partner is something Lexie would agree to?"_

"Lex say no to a lifeline? I don't think so, but I still have to discuss it with her first." Fawn replied. "If she agrees, however, none of this silent partner bullshit. I think you need to come down here and help us run this shit."

" _What?" Tina squeaked._

"Hey, now you hear me out." Fawn started talking fast, her thoughts barely keeping up with her mouth. "You're always saying how there's really nothing left for you in Seattle. You could be here with me and, instead of being Sasha's beck-and-call bitch, you could run _Take Five's 'Body Beautiful'_ day spa, as well as help us with all the administrative shit."

" _Honey, I'd love nothing more than to be able to work with you again, but I have to say no. I have no problem investing in you, but the salon is yours, sweetheart. This is your dream."_

"It is, but you're giving me no choice. If you're not going to come down here—even if just for a few months to help us out in getting the spa up and running—then we can't take your money. I guess Lexie and I will just end up losing the business." Fawn said airily as if she didn't have a care in the world.

" _That is nothing more than just some emotional fuckin' blackmail!" Her friend retorted._

"You're absolutely right. I'm glad my best friend is willing to invest in me, but I need my surrogate mother here supporting me." Fawn said triumphantly. "So _if_ you love me, you'll stop being so damn stubborn and come to Charming—once I get Lexie on board with taking your ass on too, that is."

" _I don't know, Fawn. You might regret having me in Charming." Tina said uneasily._

"The hell I will! Come on, what do you say?"

_Tina sighed. "Talk to Lexie first. I'll call you in a couple of days."_

* * *

Fawn pulled her phone out of the pocket of her smock and set it on the counter of the reception desk. No text messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

"Fuck." She muttered as she continued flipping through the appointment book as Marcy looked on. She was waiting on two important phone calls. One giving her the head's up on when Redwood was within Charming city limits after a ten-day run and the other either saving or pulling the plug on _Take Five._

It had come as no surprise to Fawn that her conversation with Lexie about making Tina a partner had gone pretty much as she had expected it would. Without Tina, the girls had seriously been considering pulling out Don Forsyth's business card and taking Boland-Howard Economic Development Corporation's offer to buy them out, at a loss no less. Needless to say, much like herself, Lexie was on pins and needles waiting for Tina's call.

"Anything wrong? Did I double book ya again?" Marcy popped her gum as she looked at Fawn with wide brown eyes from her chair.

"No, but how is it possible that you _triple_ booked Mary Ellen on the twenty-first?" Fawn asked perplexed. "That's a Sunday, Marcy and we're closed on Sundays, sweetie."

 _Damn, Ellie might have a point_ , Fawn shook her head as Marcy just stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. _This girl has literally fucked her brains out._

"Please call Annabelle, Tricia, and Leonie and rebooked them for sometime next week." Fawn handed the appointment book back to Marcy and picked up her finally ringing cell phone. "At different times, okay, Marcy?"

" _Did I tell you how unfair it is that you're emotionally blackmailing me into coming to Charming?"_

"Hot damn!" Fawn hooted at the sound of Tina's voice. _"So it's a yes?"_

_Ignoring her question, Tina continued with her pity party. "I personally think it's beneath you."_

"You'd be surprised by how many things are _not_ beneath me."

" _How about the fact that a loving daughter would never do this to her long-suffering mother?"_

"Yeah she would. Just ask Colleen."

" _You damn heifer." Tina sputtered._

"You done now?" Fawn inquired with a smirk.

" _I am. Just had to get it out of my system." Tina replied. "I just hope you don't regret my coming to Charming down the road, even if it is just for a short time. So when do you want me?"_

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Fawn squealed into the phone, pumping her fist in the air as she jumped up and down in her excitement, drawing the stares from both clients and stylists alike.

"She said yes?!" Lexie yelled from her station across the salon.

"She said yes! Baby girl, we are back in business!" Fawn crowed.

* * *

Hearing the toilet flush, Opie waited until he heard the bathroom door open to lift the blanket covering him, beckoning Fawn back into his bed. With her head landing on his muscular chest, Fawn wrapped her arm possessively around his middle as Opie cradled her to his side. Snuggled down once again in Opie's dorm, the two lovers were in a world of their own making, neither one inclined to pay any mind to the loud music and boisterous partying coming from the Main Room of the Clubhouse.

Once their relationship had crossed over into the physical, Opie's dorm had become a main stay of their relationship. Other than Opie's bedroom—which they rarely had the chance to use because someone was always home—it was the only other place they could be together comfortably. Opie was just too tall and brawny for the double bed in Fawn's small room at her father's house and, after a disastrous first and only attempt, having sex in Tig's waterbed was out of the question as far as they were both concerned.

Early in their relationship, after spending most of the evening doing some heavy petting on the couch—and instead of moving their fun and games to the floor as Opie had suggested—Fawn thought it might be fun to make use of the mirrored ceiling in Tig's bedroom, the waterbed simply being an added bonus. Painfully swollen and incredibly needy for his hot redhead, Opie had been more than willing to do whatever she wanted if it meant getting her out of her clothes that much quicker.

As predicted, the mirror on the ceiling had been an amazing treat. The seasickness, however, had not. Suddenly nauseous, Opie almost tossing his cookies while his girl rode his cock had been a sensation quite like no other. Unfortunately, almost getting thrown up on had been a definite mood killer for Fawn.

Opie smiled as Fawn made happy little noises as she cuddled up against him. "You sound like you're feeling good."

"Absolutely," Fawn purred. "It's amazing how a little bit of good news and some fantastic nookie can turn a dicey week completely around."

Opie buried his hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. "I wish you had mentioned some of the shit you were dealing with when we talked, Fawn."

"No way, Big Man. Over a week is a hell of a long time to go without having you handy." She grinned as she caressed Opie's chest. "It was either get me some hot phone sex when you called or I was gonna have to bring good ol' BOB out of retirement."

"Bob?" Opie asked irately. "Who the fuck is Bob?"

Fawn giggled. "B-O-B, my Battery Operated Boyfriend."

Opie laughed. "You are one twisted woman, babe. You are so much like your—"

"Oh my God, I swear if you finish that sentence you're gonna have to hold onto the memory of the last four hours for a very long time." Fawn threatened good-naturedly.

"Yeah, right." Opie smiled. "Like you'd be able to put me off for that long again anytime soon."

After ten straight days on the road between Eureka, Tacoma, and Reno, Opie couldn't help but gloat with male pride. Apparently, their time apart had driven the woman that had until recently been celibate for over a year up the goddamned wall.

As she had made him promise, Opie had sent Fawn a text announcing his arrival in Charming earlier in the day. Sending that text just seconds after pulling into the lot, Opie barely had time to get off his bike and down a welcome home beer with his brothers before Fawn had roared onto the lot. Amid catcalls and whistles, she practically jumped into his arms for a kiss that nearly stole his breath away. Finally coming up for air, Fawn cheekily excused Opie from the conversation he was having with Jax and Bobby as she dragged him off to his dorm where he would get a proper and hot, but very private welcome home.

Now, after their last round of sweaty and somewhat rough lovemaking, they were huddled together in a sex funky heap under a light blanket, the room dimly lit by the two wall sconces on either side of the bed. Not anywhere near spent just yet, Opie wasn't really expecting a time out for deep conversation until the words came out of his woman's mouth.

"I've been thinking," Fawn trailed her long slim fingers through his trimmed beard before yanking on it, forcing Opie to look at her.

"Ow!" He complained, but Fawn wasn't about to be distracted from asking the question that had been at the forefront of her mind since the day they met.

"How the hell did you end up with 'Opie' as a nickname, anyway?"

"Where the hell did that come from?" Opie murmured drowsily as he played with several of Fawn's curls that were draped over her bare shoulder. Pulling her up, Opie nuzzled the side of her neck below her ear, his beard tickling her sensitive skin, the sensation tightening her nipples. He was far more interested in restarting their games than talking about himself.

Fawn pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. In the soft glow provided by the sconces, his face didn't have that hard and rough look she was so used to seeing. It was warm, relaxed, loving even. With little laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and his shoulder-length hair thick and loose, he looked unbelievably strong and virile, in his prime. But as much as she missed him and being with him, Fawn wasn't about to be deterred by his nuzzling and playfulness. She wanted answers.

"Where it came from doesn't matter. What's important is the answer." Removing herself from his embrace, Fawn sat up and crossed her arms under her breasts.

Quick as a snake, the behemoth pulled her down again and rolled over, trapping her against him and the mattress as he started to work on her in earnest, sucking and nipping at all of her sensitive spots—the base of her throat at the tip of her rose tattoo, her frontal lobe and the sweet spot right behind her ear. As Fawn tried to squirm away, she could feel Opie hardening against her core and herself heating up.

_Damn it!_

_Oh shut up_ , her inner-Fawn advised excitedly. _I'm okay with another round of love games. Besides you talk too damn much._

Shutting down her inner whore, Fawn grabbed both sides of Opie's head and managed to push him out of the crook of her neck. "Okay, here's the deal, sexy beast. You want me to take care of that wood you're working on springing, you'll tell me what I wanna know." She insisted.

"Sexy beast, huh?" Opie grinned looking very much like a rakish outlaw on the prowl. "Why are you trying to kill our buzz here?" He growled.

"I'm not, but I would like to know how the fuck I ended up in bed with an 'Opie'." Fawn snarked. Having managed to dislodge both her legs from underneath his cast iron thighs with immense wriggling, she wrapped them around Opie's waist until they were locked behind him in a vise. "These legs are closed for business until I get some answers."

 _This woman is gonna drive me to drink even more than I already do_ , Opie sighed.

Allowing his full weight to fall on her, Fawn squealed as he wrapped his arms around her and rolled back to his side of the bed. Propping himself up against the pillows behind him, Opie sat up with his woman securely wrapped in his arms.

Fawn wrapped her arms around his neck and waited.

Looking at the wild-haired beauty in his arms, the SAMCRO VP sighed heavily. "I'll tell you, but it never leaves this room. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Fawn smiled as she relaxed her grip and got comfortable in his lap. "So how long have you've been 'Opie'?"

"Since I was about six years old."

"Really?" She wrinkled her nose. "I thought it was a nickname you were christened with when you joined the Club, like Kenny's now known as Dirty Harry."

"Nope. I remember it clearly. I stopped being Harold Kenneth Winston during the summer of my sixth birthday. I've been Opie ever since." Opie replied.

"Harold Kenneth Winston." Fawn said, looking Opie straight in the face. "Somehow, even though it's your birth name, it doesn't fit you."

Opie arched an eyebrow. "I didn't think so either. I hated it." He replied. "So did Pop. According to what he told me after my son was born, who my wife insisted on naming after me, Pop didn't get a say in naming me. My parents didn't have what you would call a conventional relationship, but no one really expected much from a hardcore biker and a stripper."

Fawn's eyes widened. "Mary was a stripper?"

"Yeah. It's no big secret. She's quite proud of that fact, actually. Mary wasn't much of a wife and mother back in the day, but she was a looker. Enough to catch Pop's eye one night on a run, long before the charter set up roots in Charming. Till this day, Mary talks about her stripper days as if she had been part of some bohemian art scene back in the 60's." Opie explained.

Fawn grinned. "I can totally see that." She had seen shades of a younger, sexier Mary the first time they met at the salon. She could definitely see Mary sporting a short platinum blonde asymmetrical bob and a bright yellow bikini with matching patent leather go-go boots while rocking out in a cage to the Jefferson Airplane or Jimi Hendrix.

The outlaw biker shook his head. "You are so much like—"

"I already warned you once about finishing that sentence, Redwood. Just go on with the story." She ordered, tugging on his chin hair again.

Wincing, Opie continued. "Like I said, my parents weren't exactly the Cleavers. I remember Mary trying, especially when Pop was sober and living in the house with us. Most of the time, though, he'd crash at the Clubhouse or up at the cabin and it drove her crazy because she knew what he was up to. From what I was told, Pop had been on a week-long bender and was holed up with some croweater up at the cabin when Mary went into labor. She went through the whole ordeal on her own and claims that caused her to have a moment of clarity just before I was born. She wanted more than the Life for me and decided to start me off on that path by naming me Harold Kenneth Winston."

Snuggling into the crook of his neck, Fawn chuckled. "She meant well, but that was a little naïve of her, don't you think? A change of scenery might have had a better effect." She said thinking about Colleen and their move to Oregon in order to get away from the Life and Tig.

"That came later, but yeah, she was naïve. A staid and proper name on my birth certificate wasn't going to influence me like she had hoped, not like Pop did." Opie replied.

Fawn was enjoying hearing the normally reserved biker she was currently bedding with much enthusiasm open up about his life, his past. "So how did 'Opie' come about?"

"Like I said, I hated my birth name. One afternoon, I was playing with Jax in our living room and Pop was passed out drunk in front of the TV. We were making a whole lot of racket and Mary would have cut a tit off first before waking Pop up during one of his benders, so she called out to me to keep the noise down. I was a bit of a smart ass, so I refused to acknowledge that she was talking to me as long as she kept calling me Harold. Jax and I just kept getting louder and Mary more irate as I continued to ignore her because she refused to call me anything but Harold or Harold Kenneth, which to my six year old ears was like nails on a chalkboard." Opie reached out to play with Fawn's curls as he continued. "I'm sure you can guess what happened."

"You woke up your father."

"Actually, according to Pop, it was hearing Mary screech my name over and over that brought him back from his coma-like state. They got into a screaming match, with Pop ranting about not pulling two tours in Vietnam only to have Mary mold me into some pussy." Opie chuckled as he saw the perplexed look on Fawn's face. "Yeah, I didn't understand the connection back then either, but apparently Mary was violating the Constitution by giving me such a prissy name. Don't forget, he was piss drunk and had probably smoked about a quarter pound of weed. Anyway, the thought that Mary didn't want me to grow up to be a stinking drunk biker somehow offended my father, who swore that he would make sure that his son would grow up to be whatever he wanted if that was the last thing he did.

"In the middle of their argument, Pop turns to me and asks if I even like my name, which just proved that neither of them ever really listened to me in the first place because I only ever said I hated it about 1,000 times a day. Anyway, I said I didn't and he said that just like I'd get to choose to be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up, I could choose to rename myself whatever I wanted." Opie explained.

"And you chose _Opie_?" Fawn tried to keep herself from laughing.

"I was six." He said defensively. "Besides, I had two very clearly pissed off and unhappy adults staring me down. The TV was still blaring in the background—"

"And let me guess, a rerun of The Andy Griffith Show was playing." Fawn chortled.

"Yeah," Opie laughed. "And I blurted out the first fuckin' thing that came to mind."

"So it's quite possible that if a rerun of Happy Days had been playing, I could very well be messing around with _The Fonz_?" Fawn teased, suddenly screaming out loud as Opie threw her onto her back and pounced.

"Sorry, that one's already taken, _Fawnzy_." Opie said before enveloping her mouth with his.

Burying her hands in his thick hair, Fawn eagerly returned his kiss as she felt him slowly push himself inside her. "Oh my God, Opie." Fawn moaned breathily as she arched her back.

Thrusting himself harder and faster into the beautiful woman beneath him, Opie smiled, loving the sound of _his_ name falling from her lips.


	18. The New Girl in Town

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Hunting for a place to live was never a quick and easy task. After suffering several bad rental experiences in the past, the thought of checking out dump after dump would normally annoy Fawn, especially when she had so much to keep her busy down at the shop. Today was different, however, because not only was Fawn actually eager to see what Charming had to offer, but she trusted Britt Adams to have her best interest at heart as the end result would bring a dearly loved friend to the same small town Fawn now called home.

Riding shotgun with Britt, Fawn watched with rapt attention as the car breezed through the downtown shopping area and headed towards the residential neighborhoods north of Main Street. It was a beautiful and sunny summer day. The torrential thunderstorms of the day before had brought much needed rain to the area as well as an end to the hot and steamy heat wave that had held Charming in its grip for more than a week. With the milder temperatures came a lovely breeze reminiscent of a late spring day.

Looking over at the smartly dressed woman in the driver's seat as she expertly handled the stunning white convertible, Fawn asked, "So you really think this place is it?"

"Absolutely. It's probably a little bigger than what your friend had in mind, but compared to the other rentals that I currently have on the books, this place is a gem _and_ a real steal. I personally think it's perfect." Britt replied confidently.

As the realtor that had helped her and Lexie close the deal on the vacant building next to the Cut-N-Curl, Fawn had the utmost faith in Britt. Hopefully this place was as great as she made it sound because even though in Tina's mind the move was only temporary, six months at the most, Fawn was already scheming on getting her to stay for much longer than that. A nice place to live, a successful partnership, and maybe a hook-up for some young, hot biker loving might prove to be the formula that would get Tina to make the permanent leap to Charming.

As Tina worked to get her stuff together and her affairs in order, Fawn put herself in charge of finding a "temporary" home for her new partner. The plan had been to have her friend stay with her at Tig's place, but the stubborn woman had put her foot down, insisting that since Frank had died she had gotten used to living on her own.

"Besides, I don't want to be underfoot, especially now that you have a man." Tina had reasoned and Fawn reluctantly agreed.

Less than a week had passed since Tina had finally caved due to Fawn's heavy-handed arm-twisting and accepted the terms of the deal. Not wanting to wait until a revised partnership agreement could be hammered out, Tina had wired enough money to cover the full cost of bringing the salon's electrical system up to specs. The sooner that work was completed, the sooner they would be able to get the inspector's approval and they would be that much closer to getting their Certificate of Occupancy.

As Tina had predicted, breaking the news to Sasha that she was taking an extended leave of absence had not been easy. The man was a drama queen of epic proportions in search of a stage. He had made a huge scene and Tina was grateful that she had enough forethought to wait until the end of the work day to break the news. Even then, with just the staff serving as an audience, Tina thought for sure she would have to take the man to the hospital.

Losing his number one colorist and stylist when Fawn had quit had been bad enough, but now the heifer was poaching his people as well!

It even got back to Tina that after she had left the salon, Sasha had threatened to do bodily harm if anyone else decided to jump ship. "If any of you bitches so much as _thinks_ about leaving to go to the land of fuckin' Charming, I'm going down there and blowing shit up my own damn self, Brooklyn-style, muthafuckas!"

Hoping to herself that the one place Britt planned to show her was decent, Fawn sat up as the realtor advised her that they were almost there. Turning into a cul-de-sac, Britt pulled her car into the driveway of a sand-colored house with a terracotta-tiled roof and a two-car garage. Fawn's eyes widened in appreciation as she took in the small but attractive front yard and nice landscaping. Fishing for the keys in her purse, Britt pulled them out and unlocked the door, ushering Fawn inside.

"Feel free to take a good look around." Britt offered. "This house will pass the strictest white-glove inspection. My management company handles the upkeep inside and outside, so I make sure to keep it in good condition. The owners, you see, are very particular about their property and who rents it." She smiled ruefully. "And it doesn't pay to cross SAMCRO."

Fawn had been eyeing with admiration the large open living room that led into the kitchen. Considering it was a rental, the furnishings were of high-quality and stylish.

However, hearing Britt's words, she whirled around. "Say what? A member owns this house?"

"Not just any member, darling. The top dog himself. The owners are Jax and Jolene Teller." The older woman grinned at her client's shock. "This was their first place together. As you can see, it's the perfect size for a love nest, a young family, or for someone single who likes to _entertain_. When the Tellers moved their family into a bigger home, it was definitely not a seller's market, so they decided to hold onto it. I talked them into turning it into a rental. It's actually been sitting empty for the last couple of months since the last renter relocated to Long Beach unexpectedly. Jolene is quite particular about who she'll consider for a tenant, but I figured she would probably prefer renting to a friend of the Club as long as they are trustworthy."

Fawn continued to walk around examining the three bedrooms—one of which had been converted to an office—and 2½ baths before ending up in the kitchen. Finding her way back to the living room, she opened the patio doors. Stepping outside, Fawn marveled at the decent-sized enclosed yard landscaped with beautiful summer flowers and shrubbery, not exactly surprised that the Tellers liked their privacy.

"My girlfriend is going to love this!" Fawn smiled, knowing that Tina would take full advantage of the seclusion to do some serious sunbathing. "I'm feeling like this is the right fit. I just wish she could see it before she gets here."

"That's not a problem." Britt assured her. "I'll need to give her a call later, just to get her information in order to run a credit check, and I can walk her through a virtual 360 tour on my website. If she's interested, I'll e-mail her the renter's agreement ASAP."

"Thank you so much, Britt. You have no idea how much I appreciate you doing this for me." Fawn said sincerely. "The sooner we get the ball rolling the better."

"I'm on it. Once I get all the necessary paperwork and everything checks out, I'll talk to Jolene directly and get the final okay." Britt suggested. "Hey, she may even offer a friends and family discount."

* * *

Making it to the T-M lot later than usual, the SAMCRO President roared through the gate and parked his ride in his preferred spot. At 37, Jax Teller was in his prime and looked it. Having kept his hair short since his last stretch in Chino, over the last year he had given way to his old lady's prodding and started letting it grow again. Just passed the collar of his kutte, his blond locks, while sporting a mild wave, were lightly sprinkled with silver. Jax swore that each and every grey hair could be attributed directly to his old lady and the crazy antics of his daughter. Even though he kept himself in good physical shape, it was mainly out of necessity because of the life he lived as the outlaw biker was not a vain man. He did, however, enjoy reaping the benefits the combined effect a hard body and going grey had on the love of his life.

The biker grinned as he thought about the long and hard early-morning ride Jolene had treated him to before leaving him exhausted and well-sated in bed. Jax felt himself tightening in his jeans at the memory of how his woman had bucked and moaned his name as she grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Even after all these years together, Jolene never ceased to amaze him by how hot she was to handle.

And, as if the workout she had put him through were not enough, Jolene had spent an hour running on the treadmill in the family room before getting their two youngest ready for day camp. Dropping Abel off at the lot, she then headed out for her last day teaching a special summer program for honor students. Jax didn't know where Jolene got all her energy from, but he was sure she could use some down time after a long school year and her hectic life as his old lady.

It might take some convincing but Jax was sure he could talk Jolene into taking a week or so before school started up again to treat themselves to a getaway. Maybe they could ditch the kids with the grand folks and take a few days for some well-deserved clothing optional fun at their favorite place in Lake Tahoe. He had already convinced himself to leave the garage early enough to catch his old lady as soon as she got home in order to talk to her about making plans when he finally focused on the scene in front of him.

Getting off his ride and hanging up his helmet, Jax shook his head in amused disbelief as he noted one of the T-M tow trucks backing into a spot along the garage. Hitched to it was a late model BMW with a large and very dead deer lodged in its shattered windshield. Swaggering over, Jax grinned as he saw Kenny Winston hop out of the cab of the truck to dismally survey the mess that he was now using the truck's lift to lower to the ground.

"Some days you're the Beamer, some days you're the goddamn deer." Jax mused as he paused to look down at the bloody mess of what used to be a luxury car.

"Some yuppie creamed her up at the streams." Kenny informed him, shaking his head at the carnage.

"He run into it or hit a tree while it was giving him head?" The Prez replied.

"How the hell do you want me to get it out of there?" Kenny leaned his long tall frame against the car's hood.

Jax flashed him a look that was part amusement, part condescension. "Figure it out, grunt." He lit the cigarette that was now dangling from his mouth. Watching his young nephew eyeing the dead deer with exasperation, Jax was hard pressed not to laugh out loud.

Deciding to show the young man a little mercy, Jax walked around him, reached into the flat bed of the tow truck and pulled out a chainsaw. Offering it to his Prospect, the young man stared at it for a moment before it dawned on him what Jax was telling him to do.

"Aw, come on, man! Are you serious?" Kenny all but whined. As soon as the words cut loose, Kenny wished he could yank them back.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' serious, asshole." Jax growled. "Just pretend it's 'Carve Your Own Steak Night' at The Sizzler." The SAMCRO President advised with a maniacal grin. "And do it quick, before I use that piece of shit to carve up your ride instead."

Jax held onto his Grrr-face even though he wanted to bust a gut laughing as he saw the young man's face grow pale. "Yes, sir. Right away."

Standing off to the side, Tiki watched the whole episode unfold with a huge grin himself. With his own Prospect days still a vivid memory, he remembered the frequent hazing he had been subjected to. Now, instead of showing some empathy, ever since Kenny—better known as "grunt" or "shithead" nowadays—had received his Prospect kutte, the youngest patched member of the mother charter had taken great pleasure in actively participating in the hazing.

Sauntering up to Jax, Tiki grinned at the retching sounds coming from the Beamer as Harry, sitting in the front seat of the cage, used the chainsaw to cut the deer free from the windshield. "Ahh, that's a beautiful sound, ain't it?"

Jax cocked his head at Tiki and returned the wicked grin. "Music to my fuckin' ears, bro." He replied as they shared a laugh. "You getting a fair piece of that action?"

"Shit yeah!" Tiki replied. "Just take a look at my ride, man." He pointed to his Dyna Wide Glide, which was parked off to the side and looking in top condition. "Had his ass working on it early this morning. Gave it a nice wash and wax job and then, as a treat, I let him clean my dorm. I did cut him some slack, though, and didn't make him clean the inside of my toilet bowl with _his_ tooth brush." Tiki paused for a beat. "I thought I'd have him do that tomorrow."

As both men laughed, they turned as Bobby joined them carrying a plastic bag in one hand. "Where's shithead? I need him to run an errand for me."

"He's a little busy right now," Jax drawled, pointing at Kenny, who was looking kind of green as he leaned against the car and took a minute to catch his breath. "Get one of the other Prospects to do it."

"That'll do. I just want to get this over to Fawn's ASAP. Ellie loves my brownies and I thought they could do with a little treat down there."

"Hey, Pop," Tiki said casually. "I don't mind taking it over for you."

His father cocked an eyebrow at his young son. Noting his son's sudden interest in being helpful, Bobby grinned inwardly. "It's no big deal," He said impishly. "I just might take it over myself." He turned as if he were heading towards his ride when he felt Tiki's hand land on his shoulder.

"Nah, Pop. Let me get that for ya." Tiki quickly grabbed the plastic bag containing the treats. "Why don't you go inside and chill out?" He said as he quickly strolled over to his bike.

As both patches watched their young brother haul ass out of the lot, Bobby grinned wryly. "I sure hope Tiki knows what he's doing. Ope won't take too kindly if the boy's trying to push up on Fawn."

Jax chuckled. "Your boy may be light on brain cells, but I don't think Fawn's the one Ope needs to be worried about." He replied. As Bobby gave him a confused look, Jax cocked his head and grinned. "Think about it, Bobby."

It took Bobby all of five seconds to catch Jax's drift.

"Aw shit," The shaggy haired biker sighed as the realization of his son's interest dawned in his eyes. "I'm about to lose a son, ain't I?"

"Looks like." Jax nodded, grateful that his baby Maddy was only seven.

"Well," Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "He was the runt of the litter anyway. Good thing I made me two more to carry on the Munson name." The two bikers looked at each other and roared with laughter. Bobby swung an arm around his President as they headed to the Clubhouse. "Did I ever tell you how glad I am that the Good Lord above saw fit to bless me with only sons?"

"You may have mentioned that a time or two." Jax replied.

"Unfortunately, brother, you can't say the same." Bobby smiled as Jax suddenly flashed him with a deadly glare. "Your time's coming, and I can't fucking wait."

* * *

Ellie Winston made quite a fetching picture as she strolled down the street. Wearing a peach-colored spaghetti strap maxi-dress with a high slit and matching T-strap sandals that showed off her French pedicure, her sun-kissed limbs looked long and graceful. With her shoulder length sable-colored hair dancing in the late summer breeze, exposing a pair of large gold hoop earrings, the young woman bounced along, her large Boho shoulder bag hanging off one shoulder as she carried a large bag on the opposite side containing the shop's lunch order from Nicky's Diner.

With renovation complications under control and everything moving ahead smoothly, Ellie was happy that everyone down at the salon was in a good mood once again. The only downer to her happy existence was the fact that she would be heading back to school in a couple of weeks. Considering that Ellie should be excited that she would be starting her senior year, she would also only be able to work at the salon after school and on Saturdays. Ellie was already missing the hustle and bustle, especially since Fawn and Lexie, along with their new partner Tina, had so many exciting plans for the new space.

Things at the salon had been pretty much touch and go after all of the unexpected problems with construction started eating away at the cash reserves the partners had set aside. With Fawn pulling rank as her boss, Ellie had been sworn to secrecy and prevented from sharing with her father just how tough Fawn had it with trying to get the shop up and running. Now with a new partner coming on board, Ellie was glad she had chosen to keep Fawn's confidence as she was proving to be a savvy businesswoman. Even though her friend's relationship with her father seemed to be on solid ground, it made Ellie proud that Fawn hadn't needed nor wanted a knight in shining armor to come to her rescue.

As Ellie saw it, everything in her little corner of the world was working out quite nicely. Her twin brother was finally a SAMCRO Prospect and was over the moon that, for the next year or more, he would be treated like shit and she was so happy for him. She could see that her father was getting quite serious about Fawn and she thought it was about time he put her in lock down. Apparently, so did he because, even though she had not moved in or anything, he had been able to convince Fawn to spend the night at the house once or twice. Even Grand Mary seemed to have a little more pep in her step after having dropped about ten pounds, thanks to Fawn's organic food influence. Ellie was just so glad that her family seemed to be so much happier as the Winstons were due for some good things to come their way.

 _And after getting my own shit together, things are finally looking up for me too_ , Ellie smiled blissfully as she thought about the object of her affections.

Having pulled herself out of the mire she had created for herself by associating with Chip and his friends, thanks to Fawn Ellie finally knew what it was like to feel self-confident and accomplished. That air of self-confidence had apparently caught the eye of a certain biker by the name of Tiki Munson.

Even though as the Club VP's daughter, Tiki had never been anything but respectful towards her, Ellie could feel things starting to heat up between her and the young biker. Ellie shivered a little despite the heat of the day thinking about the bit of flirtation that had developed between her and the young man she had been mooning over for the last three years.

Ellie had known Tiki forever. She could remember a time when he was actually considered the runt of all the SAMCRO boys growing up. Even Kenny, who at seven was five years younger, had managed to shove Tiki out of the swings on the lot back in the day. The older boy had been no match for Kenny's smaller but sturdier frame. Even though Tiki was taller, he had been spindly and rail thin for as long as she could remember.

 _But not anymore_.

Tiki was no longer a runt, having left behind his asthma and overall sickly health in his mid-teens. Now at 22, there was a considerable amount of muscle on his tall lean frame. To Ellie, with his dark shoulder length hair and green eyes, Tiki was perfection personified. Handsome, kind and sweet, he was totally unlike some of the hardcore and scary members of the mother charter, like Tig and Happy. Having been Tig's Prospect, Ellie had no doubt that Tiki was more than capable of handling his business. She still got chills up her spine thinking about the day he turned her ex-boyfriend Chip's face into a bloody piece of raw meat.

With still a few months before her 17th birthday, she just had to figure out a way to get Tiki to realize that she was worth waiting for because, in spite of how she felt about him, she wasn't worth dying for—which was exactly what would happen if her father ever caught wind of their thus far innocent flirting.

But bikers weren't known for moving slow. _Just ask Aunt Jo_ , Ellie chuckled to herself. If that were the case, Ellie was hoping that Fawn would keep her father so occupied that he wouldn't have a chance to notice that she had hooked up with Tiki until she was legal. After all, with Fawn pretty much keeping her father dancing on a string, he would be too busy to notice that things were heating up between his young daughter and his SAMCRO brother.

 _At least that's the plan_.

* * *

Tiki was whistling an upbeat tune to himself as he sped along Main Street heading towards Fawn's shop. In fact, he was in such a hurry that he almost missed spotting Ellie Winston on the corner of Main and Sutter as she walked down the street. He did, however, slam on the brakes when not only did he notice her, but saw that she wasn't alone.

A tall dark-haired teenager was doing his best to engage the young beauty in conversation as she tried to sidestep around him to continue down the street. Tiki didn't know or care who the little turd knocker was, but Ellie looked like she was bothered by the young man's company and he didn't like it at all.

Pulling his bike alongside the couple, Tiki was about to jump off in order to come to his Little One's rescue, but there really was no need. Instead, Tiki sat back and ginned as Ellie quickly put the boy in his place.

"Dave, we've had this conversation before," Ellie said earnestly, but with a slight edge in her voice. "I don't know what you've heard about me from Chip or his friends, but trust me, I'm not the type of girl you're looking for. I think you're a nice guy, but you keep pressing the issue and that opinion's gonna change real quick and I'll be forced to introduce you to my brother," She said as she looked over her shoulder and grinned. The sound of the distinctive pipes of Tiki's bike had been unmistakable. "Or him." She turned to Dave and gave him a pointed look before turning to Tiki again and gracing him with a sweet and flirty smile. "Hey, baby, you're running a little late. I was starting to think you forgot about me."

Quickly playing along, Tiki winked roguishly. "Never, gorgeous. Shit just got away from me this morning. So," His tone quickly changed as he looked the young man standing next to Ellie from head to toe. "Who the fuck is this?"

"Oh, this is Dave Harper. He goes to Excelsior Prep and he was just leaving, weren't you, Dave?" Ellie said sweetly as she took the helmet Tiki offered and, carefully hiking up her dress, quickly straddled the bike behind him.

"Uh, yeah. Right. Bye." The boy stammered as he eyed the menacing biker before quickly turning tail and heading down the street in the opposite direction.

"Damn, I didn't know he could move that fast off the field." Ellie giggled. "My hero," She gave Tiki a tight squeeze around his waist. "Saved me from having to get violent."

Tiki laughed. "Hey, just doing my part to help a beautiful damsel-in-distress. I'm guessing you're heading to the shop?"

"Yup, and since I'm already on your ride, I'm guessing that you're giving me a lift."

"I have no problem with that, Little One." Tiki started up his bike. "No problem at all."

* * *

Fawn was chatting with another satisfied client by the entrance when she spotted Tiki Munson parking his ride in front of the salon.

And he wasn't alone.

Fawn blinked twice as Ellie slowly unclasped her arms from around the muscled young biker's waist and delicately slid off his bike and readjusted her dress. Removing his helmet and exchanging it for the bag of food that he was holding, Ellie used her free hand to shake out her thick hair, making a very attractive picture, Fawn noticed.

 _And I'm not the only one either_ , she thought bemusedly as Tiki got off his bike, his eyes fixed on Ellie. Moving to stand directly in front of her, his 6'1 frame didn't quite tower over the young woman, who had reached her adult height of 5'8 over the summer.

 _Shit, they_ _look way cute together_ , Fawn thought as she surreptitiously watched Tiki tuck several strands of Ellie's windblown hair behind her ear, his fingers lightly caressing her face.

 _Down boy_ , Fawn watched as even from this distance, she could see Ellie flashing him a brilliant and beautiful smile. Fawn pursed her lips and stepped away from the door, seeing as the young man placed a hand on the small of Ellie's back and escorted her inside the shop.

"You're late, Ellie." Mary Ellen practically whined. "We're about to pass out in here."

"Sorry," She replied, her blue-green eyes sparkling. "I got caught up in some conversation, but Tiki saw me and gave me a ride."

"It was my pleasure, Little One. Hey Fawn." Tiki walked over to Fawn and placed a light kiss on her cheek. "I also come bearing gifts of the edible kind from Pop." Holding up the bag he shook it. "Brownies. Aren't you glad I came?"

"I can see somebody certainly is," She murmured under her breath. Taking the brownie bag from Tiki, she passed it to Ellie. "Elle, why don't you give everyone their lunch while me and Tiki chitchat?"

"Sure, no problem." Ellie wet her lips as she turned to the biker. "Thanks for the ride, Tiki. If you happen to swing by this way again later, maybe you can give me a ride home and save Fawn a trip out of her way." She suggested helpfully.

Tiki smiled roguishly. "Yeah, sure. I think I may find myself back this way around later. I'll swing by around six. That good?"

"Perfect." Ellie smiled prettily before turning on her heel.

 _Aw shit_ , Fawn thought as she watched Tiki watch Ellie walk away, her hips swinging delicately from side to side. _Poor Ope is so not_ _ready for this._

Pulling his gaze from Ellie, Tiki ran his hand through his hair as he took a good look around, taking note of the many changes made to the shop to date. "Hey, not bad." He said approvingly. "It's a good thing my Mom got out of the hair business, or you'd have one seriously jealous old lady on your hands."

Fawn plopped down on the chair in her station and kicked a small backless chair on wheels towards Tiki. "You never told me your mom was a hairstylist."

The young biker sat down. "Actually, she was pretty old school and referred to herself as a _beautician_. Stopped working for a bit to punch me and my brothers out, but later went back to it. Even had her own shop in Modesto for a minute before she split with Pop." Tiki explained. "She ended up remarrying a bounty hunter and started running the administrative side of the business for him. She loved doing hair, but her hair shop didn't look anything like this. This place is looking pretty hot. Can't wait 'til you get rid of all this fuckin' pink."

"Yeah, as long as we keep moving forward, that's the next phase. In another six weeks this place will really kick ass."

"We haven't really spoken in a while," Tiki smiled. "I just hope you know how glad I am that you decided to stay in Charming."

"Thanks." Fawn smiled back. "This little hick town has really grown on me."

"And a certain charming outlaw had absolutely nothing to do with your decision to stay?" Tiki snarked.

"You mean _you_? No, not at all." Fawn teased and Tiki laughed. "And for the record, I decided to make my stay permanent way before me and Ope hooked up."

Tiki shrugged his shoulders. "If you insist, but it was quite obvious even before you beat Emily out of town—who, by the way, has relocated to Tacoma with the Nomad Prez—that you and Ope were dancing around each other quite aggressively since you hit town. It's pretty fuckin' clear that my brother ain't letting you get away anytime soon."

"The SAMCRO Gossip Mill is alive and kicking, I see." Fawn crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm glad to see that you are so clearly invested in my love life, Tiki."

"Gurl, you have no idea how close you were to having me land on that fine ass of yours," He grinned. "It was only out of love of brotherhood that I stepped aside to let our beloved VP move in on you."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot." Fawn laughed. "And now, what, you're moving in on his daughter?" Fawn's eyes narrowed with a glint as she saw she had scored a direct hit. "What, cat got your tongue?"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." He blustered unconvincingly.

Fawn eyed the suddenly antsy biker pointedly. "Tiki, this is me you're talking to. We both know Ellie has a thing for you. And, as of late, we both know it's reciprocated, right?"

"What?!" He huffed. "Shit, is it that obvious?"

"I guess that answers my question." Fawn winced as she crossed her legs. _Not good. Not good at all. I like Tiki too much and it would be a shame if my Redwood killed him_ _._ "You know that's not a good idea. She's not even seventeen yet."

"Whoa, wait. I've never crossed that line with Ellie." Tiki said defensively. "I might engage in a little harmless flirting now and then—"

"No way, outlaw. There is _nothing_ harmless about the way you flirt. I almost jumped on _your_ ass a couple of times myself in the beginning and Marcy nearly threw her panties at you the first time you came into the shop after only five minutes."

"You did, huh? I knew I shouldn't have given up so easy." Tiki gloated teasingly. "And, for the record," He got suddenly serious. "Ellie and Marcy don't belong in the same conversation. Let's just say that when Marcy and I ran into each other in the parking lot of the Circle S a while back, she did a bit more than just throw her panties at me. Ellie's _not_ Marcy. I would never hurt Little One like that and I think I'm a little offended that you would think I would." He crossed his arms over his chest to glare at her. "Elle is special. Has been since we were kids."

 _Holy shit_! Fawn was starting to see Tiki in a new light. Having known Tiki the longest since her arrival in Charming, Fawn was hard pressed to say that Ellie could do better. He was good-looking, sweet, funny, and fiercely protective, if the beat down he had laid on Chip was anything to go by. But Ellie was special to her, too. Not only did she want to protect the young woman from emotional or physical harm, but she was Opie's daughter.

_Redwood would skin me alive if I let something happen to Elle._

"Okay, I'm sorry, Tiki." Fawn apologized sincerely. "I have no reason to believe that you've been anything but above the board with Ellie. Just keep in mind, in case something _is_ going on, that Ellie is only now pushing up on seventeen and it's unlikely that her father would take very kindly to any man, especially a brother, punching her v-card before—or even after—she was legal."

"There's no need to worry about that." Tiki said tersely.

"I'm just saying," Fawn put her hands up. "But I'm glad to hear it."

Tiki stood up and hurriedly excused himself as he walked towards the exit and out of the shop. Getting on his ride, he paused for a minute to consider Fawn's words of advice.

She meant well. After all the shit Fawn's been through herself, she only had Ellie's best interest at heart.

_But so do I._

It was a simple fact that Ellie Winston was growing up. And it wasn't something that Opie was unaware of either, even though the shit storm that had been Chip Jr. had blindsided him. But even Opie could see that Ellie wasn't a little girl anymore. She was growing into a lovely young woman.

Even though some months back Tiki had joked with Opie about settling down with an old lady, referring to Fawn in order to push the VP into taking some action, in the back of his mind, he hadn't been joking entirely. He would be the first to admit that he envied the relationship his President had with his old lady.

Jax and Jolene Teller were not the perfect couple. But they had walked through all kinds of shit and had come through on the other side of it together. It hadn't been easy for Jax to secure Jolene as his old lady, especially not when she had a fiercely overprotective father like Clay Morrow. It was no secret—and had almost become something of a SAMCRO legend—the serious shit Jax had gone through in order to be with Jolene. And all because he had fallen in love with her when she was only seventeen.

Opie Winston wasn't anything like the former SAMCRO President. Even though he did have a righteous temper when pushed to the breaking point, he wasn't the shoot first and ask questions later-type. For that reason alone he was known as Jax's saner side. And since hooking up with Fawn, Tiki could see the gentle giant reemerging in Opie after spending four long years hibernating in his own grief.

 _If there was ever a good time to poke a stick at a sleeping bear about his cub, now was probably the time to do it while he was well-sated and happy in the arms of his new mama bear_ , Tiki thought because he really did like Ellie.

 _A lot_.

* * *

The two women were sitting comfortably on the patio furniture in the Tellers' backyard. It was dusk, and the sun was nearly ready to settle in for the night. After the sky had first turned pink and then deep purple, a slight chill had settled into the air. With only a couple of weeks remaining in August, the town of Charming was already gearing up for the fall weather to descend on them after Labor Day.

There was a huge tent that had been set up at the opposite end of the Tellers' extensive backyard. Brightly lit, there were three boisterous children inside—Maddy, TJ and Moby, along with Chopper and Rocco—making the most of their faux-camping experience. The children were far too busy having a good time to pay attention to the adults talking quietly to themselves.

After a few tense moments during their first lunch together, Jolene Teller and Fawn Trager had been steadily getting to know one another. Now with Opie so enthralled by the spunky redhead, Jolene had taken the younger woman under her wing. As a result, not only was Fawn becoming more comfortable within the SAMCRO fold, but she and Jolene had become good friends as well. The SAMCRO Queen soon discovered that there was much to admire about Tigger's kid. They had more in common than anyone would initially guess, including the fact that both had shitty birth moms and fathers and men who are fully entrenched and incredibly devoted to the brotherhood of Sons of Anarchy. They were both fiercely independent and strong woman. A new breed of SAMCRO women.

It was that newly-found camaraderie and affinity that had brought Fawn to Jolene's door for some gravely needed advice. After all, Opie claimed that aside from Jax, no one knew him better than his sister from another mister, and right now Fawn needed some insight into the mind of her Redwood.

Fawn had spent a considerable amount of time reflecting on her conversation with Tiki long after he left. And seeing him return to the salon that night on the dot of six to give Ellie a lift home just confirmed her belief that something deep was brewing between the two.

"Fuck, I can't believe I haven't noticed this shit." Jolene marveled. "You really think there's something going on there?"

Fawn nodded. "But in spite of the kutte he wears, it's the sweetest thing I've seen in a long time. I've never seen him be anything but completely respectful of her. To hear him talk, she's someone very special to him. Best way I can describe it is as puppy love, biker-style. They look at each other and it's clear as day that they're smitten. It's so cute I wanna puke."

The SAMCRO Queen smiled. "Wow, it just might be first time love for the both of them. I've known Tiki his whole life and I don't think he's ever been in a serious relationship. _Wow_." Jolene said again.

"So you see my predicament." Fawn ventured.

"Oh most definitely." Jolene replied with wide eyes. "I can live to be 1,000 years old and I'll never understand the men in our lives. I mean, I was raised in this environment, surrounded by bikers my entire life. I grew up with Jax and Ope and yet my father was shocked, _shocked_ , that I not only had a taste for bikers, but that I had a taste for one in particular." She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm sure Ope has no clue about what's blossoming under his very nose, but after having a front row seat to all that Jax and I went through, it really shouldn't come as some big surprise. And as long as Tiki's not just playing on her feelings in order to score some new pussy, I don't see any reason why he shouldn't at least aim to be more reasonable than my father was."

"Clay was tough on Jax?" Fawn asked, not privy to that part of SAMCRO history.

"Oh shit, that's an understatement." Jolene said before taking a sip from her iced tea. "The day my Dad found out about me and Jax—I was seventeen and still in high school—he took Jax into the Chapel, closed the door and beat the shit out of him." Jolene shook her head at the memory. "It was bad. I think my Dad fought my relationship with Jax with every step we took forward together."

"Really? I never would have guessed. They seem to get along so well." Fawn commented.

Jolene nodded. "They do. _Now_. They still have their moments, though, except nowadays they mostly argue over Maddy affections." She said with a chuckle. "Tiki reminds me of Jax a bit. He's notorious because of the speed with which he goes through croweaters, but he has a good heart. I don't see Tiki playing with Ellie's affections just for kicks. He's too much like my Uncle Elvis."

Fawn smiled. "That's a relief. I just want to avoid having this shit blow up in my face with Ope, but I don't want to throw Tiki to the wolves either."

"Oh no, there's no need getting Tiki killed over something that hasn't happened yet. Now that I know, we'll just keep an eye on them both." Jolene suggested. "If it ever comes across like they're moving fast, I'll talk to Tiki about it first, get a sense of where he's going with this."

"Sounds like a plan." Fawn sighed. "I haven't been in the middle of some shit for a couple of months and I'd like to keep it that way, if you don't mind."

Jolene laughed. "Yeah, you do have a knack for finding your way into trouble, but from what I can see, you and Ope seem good. I know for a fact that this is the happiest I've seen him since Donna passed. His kids adore you, which when you consider the whole 'wicked stepmother scenario' is practically unheard of, and even Mary likes you. And, since you're not much on sharing the deets, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that the sex must be absolutely in-fuckin'-credible." She grinned.

Fawn grinned wickedly. "You have absolutely no idea! _Phenomenal_ is how I would describe it."

"I knew it, you damn heifer! You know," Jolene started coyly. "Donna and I used to share _everything_."

"Get the fuck outta here!" Fawn guffawed.

"Yeah, we did, girl, and one of these days, I'm going to pull rank on you as the SAMCRO Queen and you're going to have to spill your guts."

"Only if you return the favor." Fawn replied. "Blonds are not really my thing, but DAMN! I don't think it should come as a surprise that I would be willing to make an exception." Taking note of Jolene's sudden death glare, Fawn quickly amended, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" before they laughed.

Grabbing the pitcher of iced tea from the table in front of them, Jolene refilled their glasses. "So how are the renovations coming along?"

"Great, actually. After bringing Tina on board, everything is moving along quickly." Fawn replied. "And speaking of Tina, I wanted to thank you for leasing her your house. With everything falling into place so quickly, she'll be down here soon to help out."

"Hey, we're SAMCRO and I know how important the salon is to you. Besides, Tina sounds like a godsend and I'm glad you have someone like her on your side." Jolene responded.

"Yeah, she's great. It shouldn't have come as such a surprise that she would offer to help out the way she has. That's just the type of friend she is. Tina's always had my back, especially through my early days of sobriety and she really means a lot to me." Fawn explained. "She's been trying for years to get me to patch shit up with Tig, but I was too stubborn. It took him almost dying to get my ass in line. If only I had listened to Tina sooner, Dad and I wouldn't have lost so much precious time because of petty bullshit. She was right. Nothing's more important than family and if you're in danger of losing it, you should fight hard to get it back."

"She is right." Jolene agreed. "Sounds like you two are really close."

"Yeah, we are. Truth is, I feel a lot closer to her than I do Colleen, and it's been that way from day one. There's a lot of baggage and shit between me and my mom and I tried making shit right with her way before I ever did with Tig and it just wasn't happening." Fawn said. "With Tina, that motherly bond was effortless. I'm sure you can understand that kind of friendship even without blood ties."

"I sure can. Gemma's the closest I've ever had to a mother. It's not easy having a mother/daughter relationship with her, but I don't think it has anything to do with the lack of blood ties. Mothers and daughters will always knock heads." Jolene observed.

"Yeah, I'm sure, but Gemma is a really tough broad." Fawn wrinkled her nose. "No offense, though. I like her and now that I've got her trained to let me do her hair my way, we rarely fight, but still."

Jolene laughed. "None taken, but Gemma showed me what it really means to be a mother. We bump heads all the time. Over Jax, the kids, my Dad, the Club. You name it and we've thrown down over it, but I know she loves me unconditionally. I never had that in my life before Charming. And at one point, I almost talked myself out of having that kind of relationship with her because when your self-esteem has been shot to hell because your piece of shit birth mother never gave a damn, I guess it's easier to believe that you're unlovable." She explained. "So try not to let it get you down that you and Colleen don't have a perfect relationship. You have Tina. And Ope, me, and the rest of SAMCRO."

Fawn felt herself choke up a bit. _Tig's right. SAMCRO takes this family shit real serious_.

"Thanks, Jolene. You have no idea how good that makes me feel." She said sincerely.

Jolene smiled, reaching across and squeezing Fawn's hand. "So when does she get here?" She asked as she sat back in her chair.

"At the end of the week. She packed all of her essentials into a U-Haul trailer and is driving it down herself." Fawn replied. "It's a 13½-hour drive from Seattle, but she's breaking it up over two days and should be here by Friday afternoon. I got the keys from Britt today and Lex and I are heading over tomorrow to do a bit of cleaning and grocery shopping to fill up the fridge. The plan is to welcome her to her new home with a nice dinner before we descend into unpacking hell."

"Want a little help? Neeta, Gemma and I can come over and give you a hand with the unpacking."

"Really?" Fawn grinned. "That would be awesome. The fact is, Tina's really nervous about meeting everyone, so easing her in by meeting the SAMCRO women first sounds like a great ice breaker. Thanks for offering."

"No thanks are necessary. I can't wait to meet her." Jolene waved her away and smiled cheekily. "I won't, however, say no to a couple of free spa treatments."

* * *

"It's perfect!" Lexie said excitedly.

Fawn shook her head slowly as she bit her lip. "Nah, I think you need to move it over to the left about two inches, maybe two-and-a-quarter." She directed as Lexie eyed her warily before turning to fiddle with the large bouquet of flowers on the fireplace mantelpiece in the living room again.

The two women had been up early and were hard at work in the Tellers' former home making their final preparations for their new partner's arrival. Having spent the last couple of evenings after work going through the house with a fine-tooth comb, Lexie and Fawn had cleared their calendar of clients on Friday and Saturday in order to help Tina get settled into her new home.

They had spent the morning shopping for groceries in Charming and Lodi, as well as hitting a couple of farmers markets, with Fawn buying enough food to feed an army. After unpacking all of the provisions, they were now decorating the house with the numerous bouquets of flowers Fawn had ordered from Rita's.

"Yup, that's perfect. She is going to love these." Fawn said as she admired the long-stemmed pink roses. "Frank used to buy her pink roses all the time. They always made her so happy."

"How long has she been a widow?" Lexie sat down on the dark brown leather couch.

"About three years." Fawn replied sadly. "In spite of the fact that he was an older man, he took good care of himself and was in good shape. The cancer was so unexpected and aggressive and it killed him so fast, Tina was emotionally devastated. She was a train wreck waiting to happen."

"That's so sad." Lexie said sympathetically. "How much older was he?"

"About 18 years, but he didn't look it." Fawn said as she sat down next to Lexie. "They met at the salon and hearing Frank tell the story was priceless. He was a great storyteller and had this amazingly boisterous and infectious laugh. He was a lot of fun."

"Aw, you have to tell me how they met." Lexie insisted.

Fawn sighed. Thinking about Frank made her happy and sad at the same time. Tina and Frank had been like family to her for a long time. Frank, a lover of Italian greyhounds, had even given her Rocco from the last litter he had bred before he got sick so she would always remember him.

"This was a while before I ever met Tina. At the time, he owned a software development company in Seattle. He was an engineer by trade and a very smart man. He wasn't too big on taking time off or having fun, so one day his staff decided to get him a gift certificate for a man spa day at the salon." Fawn let loose a peal of laughter at the thought. "He hated the idea and found every excuse in the book to keep from going. His staff caught on and in order to keep office morale up, he caved and one day, without an appointment, showed up at _Flip_ _It_ hoping they'd turn him away.

"Little did he know that Tina wasn't the only one in the salon who liked older men. Sasha quickly grabbed him up, even without an appointment, and went to town on him. He had to tolerate the artsy-fartsy types who offered him essence of rose tea instead of a good old fashioned cup of coffee; he gave into their insistence that he put on a pink robe; and went along with having an avocado masque smeared on his face. He did, however, totally piss off his consultant by asking for some chips to go with the guacamole he was covered in."

Lexie chortled. "No he didn't."

"Yes he did. He was a good sport about the whole regimen, even though he nixed getting a rinse to get rid of the little bit of grey he had. He was quite impressed with the haircut, said it was probably the best he ever had in his life. But he was not—absolutely no way, no how, no chance—was he going to get his nails did! Sasha literally dragged him kicking and screaming, but he swore he wasn't going to do it. He was adamant about it, that is, until he saw Tina sitting at her station. He broke Sasha's heart when he pointed at Tina and said, 'That one. I want my future wife, or no one else.' He had been a workaholic and single for over 25 years after his first wife died in a car accident, until he met Tina. He sold his software company for a lot of money and retired so he could enjoy being a husband."

"Damn, that's so romantic." Lexie said dreamily.

"Yeah, don't I know it? They fit so well together that when I first met Tina I thought they had been married forever. Apparently, Tina had been unlucky in love before Frank and she loved him to pieces. Was completely devoted to him. He may have been almost 20 years her senior, but he was handsome, active, and kept himself in shape. She never thought that she would lose him so soon."

"I can see why she was devastated." Lexie commented.

"She was, and it took her a minute to pull herself together, but she did because that's what Frank wanted." Fawn paused as she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. "That can't be Tina. She said she was at least another thirty minutes out." She jumped up and ran to the door just as the doorbell went off. Flinging the door open, Fawn smiled wryly. "Well, shit, look what the cat dragged in."

"I ain't no damn cat and this shit's heavy, girl, so don't just stand there. Move out the way," Neeta ordered as she balanced the large pan in her hands. "It's hot too."

Stepping aside, Fawn watched as Neeta marched inside, followed by both Jolene and Gemma who were similarly burdened down with food and a large vase of flowers. "Oh shit, I didn't expect all this. I just thought you were coming to help unpack." She took the flowers out of Jolene's arms and slammed the door shut behind her.

"You can thank Gemma for this all this. She takes a suggestion and runs with it." Jolene replied as she trooped behind the others into her old kitchen.

"Hey!" Gemma complained. "I just figured since you did a pretty good job on my hair, it seemed like a good idea to suck up to the new girl in town. I could use a good massage, too."

"Your old cranky butt needs sumptin," Neeta murmured as she set the hot pan on the stove.

"What'd you say?" Gemma retorted, her hand on her cocked hip.

"Who me?" Neeta asked innocently. "I said nothing. Besides, you're not the only one who needs some spa services. I've got a bone to pick with _that_ one over there." She pointed at Fawn.

"What the hell did I do?" She exclaimed.

"Not a damn thing for me! And after I worked behind the scenes to keep Jolene from knocking you on your ass, too. How come I just found out from the good Sheriff's wife that you've been doing her hair and not mine?"

"Uh," Fawn stammered as she noted the gimlet eye Neeta was putting on her. "Maybe because your hair is perfect as it is?" She hedged.

"Good save." Jolene said.

"You mean nice try, but not good enough." Neeta retorted. "I don't like having to travel to Lodi to get my hair did either, so you know I was surprised as shit when we stopped by to pick up these flowers and Rita dropped the bomb on me. I'm officially demanding the hook up, too."

Fawn wrapped her arms around Neeta, nearly smothering the woman. "Name the date and time, sugar, and I'll show you that this white gurl can do some hair!"

As the group of women continued to laugh and talk, Fawn suddenly heard the sound of another car pulling up to the house through the open kitchen window.

"Yes! That's got to be Tina." Letting go of Neeta, she ran for the front door.

"Finally!" Gemma declared. "We get to meet the Amazing Tina."

"Hey, be nice," Jolene chastised. "She's someone special to Fawn and Fawn is family, so let's make her feel welcomed." She turned to follow Fawn as the rest of the women followed suit.

Throwing the front door open, Fawn squealed with excitement as she saw the little red Corvette with a U-Haul cargo trailer attached to its rear pull to a stop at the curb. Running down the walkway, Fawn was practically jumping up and down as Tina threw open her door and got out, barely slamming the door behind her as she ran around the front of the car at a dead run.

"Fawn!" Tina shrieked, the loud voice booming as she practically threw herself into the open arms of her best friend, the young woman she loved like a daughter.

"My God, I can't believe you're finally here!" Fawn marveled as she wiped her face suddenly wet with tears. "I missed you so much, you damn bitch!"

"Not nearly as much as I missed you." Tina managed to say before she too started to bawl. Laughing and crying the two women continued to hug each other as they twirled around on the Tellers' walkway.

* * *

Stepping out of the house with Gemma, closely followed by Lexie and Neeta, Jolene felt a sudden chill run up her spine. Chalking it up to the emotional scene playing out on the sidewalk in front of her old house, she slowly approached the two women, who were still embracing and laughing as they happily reunited.

Smiling slightly as she watched Fawn fuss over Tina, Jolene felt a sharp twinge in her heart. Growing up a biker princess, Jolene had good instincts, which she had learned to trust early on. The tightening in her chest wasn't a response to the heartfelt moment she was witnessing, but unsure of where the feeling of déjà vu was coming from, Jolene brushed it off.

Dismissing that eerie feeling had been a mistake, however, as Fawn untangled herself from Tina and, caught unprepared, Jolene's world came crashing down.

Smiling, Fawn turned around to face the four women now standing in front of her. "I know you wanted me to keep your arrival low profile, but my family insisted on being here to welcome you to Charming." She wrapped her arm around Tina's suddenly tense shoulders. Drunk on how happy she was at the moment, Fawn didn't notice that her dear friend had gone deathly pale as she made the introductions. "This is my best friend and surrogate mom, Tina Giamatti. Tina, this is Jolene Teller, Gemma Morrow, Neeta Benson and my partner-in-crime, Lexie-Ann Dawson."

Taken aback by the look of outrage on Gemma's face, Fawn's brilliant smile faded as the feeling of euphoria left her body as if someone had kicked the wind out of her. Quickly looking to Jolene for an explanation of Gemma's sudden hostility, Fawn's eyes widened even further. Now she was desperately confused by the anger and tension in the air as she took in the sight of Jolene shaking with barely contained rage herself. Looking as she had seen a ghost, Jolene's face was paper white, even her usually pink, full lips were drained of color as her trembling hands unclenched and clenched into small fists.

 _Oh shit! What the fuck have you done now?_ Inner-Fawn berated her. Inexplicably, Fawn felt the steely cold fingers of dread wrap around her rapidly beating heart.

"What the fuck?!" Gemma practically yelled as she stared daggers at Tina and wrapped a protective arm around Jolene's slim shoulders. "Is this some kind of twisted fuckin' joke?!" She asked, but no one was laughing.

As a matter of fact, Tina was on the verge of tears as Fawn finally found her voice. "What the hell is going on?" She asked, looking from Gemma, to Tina, to Jolene and then back to Tina. "Do you know each other?"

The peal of laughter that escaped Jolene was anything but happy. It was cold, devoid of mirth and bordering on the hysterical. "Of course we know each other!" Jolene gasped. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, _Valentina_? But how can a girl possibly ever forget her piece of shit egg donor!"


	19. Allies in Reason

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Fawn Marie Trager was sitting slumped on her father's leather couch, her legs stretched out in front of her on the coffee table. Used and waded up tissues soaked with tears and snot littered on the floor around her, the table, and the couch.

Snatching another handful of Kleenex from the box sitting next to her, Fawn continued bawling as she alternated between blowing her nose and crying her eyes out. Curled up on the couch beside her, Rocco watched his mistress with what seemed to be sympathetic big brown eyes. Flinging the used tissues—this time over her shoulder and onto the floor—her red-rimmed eyes centered on the unopened bottle sitting on the table. She still couldn't believe that she had actually ransacked her father's room in search of the Johnnie Walker Black he kept on reserve in his nightstand.

"Today is without a doubt the worst fuckin' day of my life." Fawn said bleakly, her voice hoarse from crying, as she continued to stare at the amber liquid in the bottle sitting on the table. "This has to be a new all-time low for me."

 _It sure is_ , Inner-Fawn chided. _You are being pretty damn pathetic right now. It may have all turned to shit, but after nearly 11 years of sobriety are you really gonna go through with this_?

Fawn balled up her fists and rubbed at her eyes like a child. "I don't know!" She cried out, her shoulders shuddering as the sobs took over her body. "I just don't want to feel anything at all right now."

Never in all the worst case scenarios her mind had concocted about moving to Charming, going into business for herself, renovations, or her relationship with Opie could she have foreseen the nightmare that had unfolded so quickly on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life. Even now, as her mind took control, Fawn laid on the couch in a fetal position and thought about the events of earlier that afternoon, trying to make sense of them, as she continued to cry bitterly.

* * *

" _Of course we know each other!" Jolene gasped. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Valentina? But how can a girl possibly ever forget her piece of shit egg donor!"_

Riveted to the spot where she stood, Fawn felt herself trembling and about to panic as her head switched back and forth between her dear friend and surrogate mom Tina and her new friend and mentor Jolene. Hurriedly throwing up a prayer in the general vicinity of the heavens, hoping like hell that someone was listening, any hope that it was all a simple case of mistaken identity fell through the floor as she took a good look at the two women.

Blinking her eyes in shock, Fawn took stock of the similarities in their features—the heart-shaped faces with piercing seafoam green eyes, naturally arched eyebrows, and the deep dark richness of their ebony-colored hair, the only difference being in length. With the SAMCRO Queen's hair trailing in waves down her back over a tightly fitted halter top, Tina was currently showcasing the shoulder length hairstyle Fawn had specially designed for her about a year ago. Her curly waves framed her features perfectly above the deep V-neck red peasant-style blouse she was wearing over a pair of tight white Capri jeans.

_FUCK ME! How could this be happening? How could I not have seen the resemblance before today?_

But Fawn realized that on some level she had. She had always felt that Jolene looked familiar to her. She was certainly gorgeous enough for Fawn to think that she had been a Maxim model at one time, but it was now painfully obvious that it was Tina the younger woman had reminded her of. It was only by seeing the two women together that the likeness was truly apparent, even down to their lush and curvy body types.

But Fawn could no longer focus on making sense out of any of this as the young SAMCRO Queen turned on her.

Jolene felt her heart literally pounding in her chest as waves of anger simply overwhelmed her. Feeling alternately hot, then cold, her tongue had long since gone numb in her mouth, a sure sign that she was about to lose her shit. Simultaneously feeling on the verge of throwing up and passing out, Jolene refused herself that weakness as her eyes landed on the woman she had not seen since fleeing Seattle over 17 years ago after nearly being raped by Valentina's boyfriend-slash-pimp.

Her lips curled in disgust, Jolene couldn't bring herself to address the woman who had brought her into the world only to treat her worse than a mongrel dog. Instead, she turned on the young woman she had actually started to care about after a not-so-awesome first impression and who had brought her beloved Sasquatch back to life.

"Why would you do this to me? What the hell were you thinking bringing this gash to Charming and into _my_ house?" Jolene raged, her small balled up fists itching to swing on someone or something as she looked up into the suddenly remorseful eyes of Tig Trager's daughter.

However, before Fawn could respond, Tina pleaded, "Jolene, please don't be angry with Fawn. She di—"

Striding forward, the SAMCRO matriarch got in the woman's face, effectively shutting her up. With her hand resting on her hip, Gemma faced off against Tina, ignoring the sorrowful look in her eyes. "Bitch, don't you dare open your fuckin' mouth in her defense! I don't know how you two came to know each other, but it's obvious you used her to get your foot in the door. You must have lost your damn mind showing up in Charming like this. I promised you an ass whupping once if I ever saw your face again and I am more than capable of giving it to you today."

"Jolene, I don't know how to explain this," Fawn said evenly, interrupting Gemma's tirade. "But we can't stand out here shouting at each other. Please let's just go inside and talk about this." She implored as she felt Tina trembling against her.

Standing off to the side with a dumbstruck Lexie as everything went to shit, Neeta knew that cooler heads needed to prevail before the young Queen ended up in a cell at the Sanwa Sheriff's substation for double homicide.

"Fawn has a point, baby girl," Neeta said in a soothing voice as she tried to instill some sort of tranquility to the situation. Approaching Jolene, she grabbed one of her ice cold hands and held it in between hers, trying to comfort her young friend. "Let's just all go inside and try to sort this out."

But Jolene was shaking her head vehemently as Neeta spoke. "I have nothing to sort out with that pathetic piece of trash."

Turning to face her birth mother, Jolene aimed a hardened stare at the pale woman standing in front of her. "I don't know why you're here or what kind of sick game you think you're playing. And I don't care to know, but if you have an ounce of self-preservation running through your cold blood, you will get back in your cage and ride your ass out of town as fast as you can." Jolene ordered. "You decide to stay, you'll have to face the consequences and they won't be pretty." Refusing to even acknowledge Fawn, the SAMCRO Queen stalked around the two shocked women and headed for her car. "Neeta, Gemma, let's go." Jolene said tersely.

Fawn watched in a daze as an angry Gemma stomped off after Jolene, as Neeta reached out to squeeze her arm gently before heading to the car. Throwing her Mustang into reverse, Jolene pulled out of the driveway, the tires squealing as they burned rubber tearing out of the cul-de-sac and down the street.

"Um," Lexie said haltingly behind the two women. "I think I'm gonna head out, too. You two need some time alone, but call me later, okay, Fawn?" She queried, her voice full of concern as Fawn nodded absently, not sure what she was agreeing to.

Nearly running towards her car parked on the curve of the cul-de-sac, Lexie felt bad bailing on her new friend and partner, but with the sudden turn of events, it didn't look like they would be partners for much longer.

* * *

For a long while, there was nothing but eerie silence permeating the room. Once the closest of friends, Fawn and Tina now sat on the opposite ends of the long leather couch in the living room. With Fawn barely acknowledging Tina's presence as she held her head in her hands, the only sounds to be heard were their combined sniffling accompanied by the sweet chirping of birds floating throughout the house via the open patio doors.

Rocco, sensing the tension, chose to continue dozing in the backyard even though his mistress' good friend had always been a long-time favorite of his.

Sitting on her end of the couch, Fawn was riding a rollercoaster of emotions and it was making her just as sick as the real thing. With the initial panic and hurt from the first confrontation dispelled, all she had left was confusion and anger, which continued to grow by leaps and bounds. Left with so many unanswered questions, she couldn't make sense of what the hell had just happened.

It was Tina who finally broke the silence. "I'm guessing you're feeling pretty lost right now, confused about what the fuck just happened." She said quietly.

Fawn felt her jaw click as she clenched her teeth. She was trying hard to repress her rising fury as she turned to face the woman she had long since considered damn near perfect. "I would think that is stating the obvious." Fawn retorted.

"I'm sorry, honey." Tina apologized, her face a mask of pain. "I knew coming here was a bad idea. I tried to warn you. I guess I should have just listened to my gut and stayed away."

"You're sorry?!" Fawn exploded. "That's all you have to say?!" Suddenly jumping to her feet, Fawn paced back and forth in low-heeled sandals as she ran her shaking hands through her hair. "You've just blown apart my whole fuckin' world—not to mention blindsided Jolene—and all you can say is 'I'm sorry'?!" She whirled around to face Tina.

"It's all I can offer right now, Fawn. It's not like you or anyone else is going to want to hear what I have to say." Tina replied sadly and Fawn knew she was right. She was nowhere near ready to hear Tina's side of the story. "I really thought I'd have some time to smooth shit over a bit before I had to come clean. I didn't expect to see Jolene the minute I rolled into town. I _told_ you I wanted to come in under the radar. _This_ was the reason why."

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me for not keeping my family away!" Fawn shot back. "You know, the same family you've been harping on me to get close to. Now I don't even know what the hell for when you just turn around and drop this shit on me and on them without any fucking warning!"

"I know, Fawn," Tina rose to her feet. "And I was wrong."

"Shit! You're just on a roll today with stating the obvious, aren't ya?!" She yelled. "Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to fit in around here, to fix things with my Dad, to get the Club to accept me, for _me_ to accept them? For the first time in my life I almost felt like a part of a real family, as dysfunctional as they are. Now, Jolene hates me, which more than likely means that they're _all_ going to hate me when news about you spreads."

 _Including Opie_ , Fawn thought miserably. _Not now, not when things are so fuckin' good between us._

"Sweetheart, please, just give me a chance to explain." Tina walked towards Fawn with outstretched arms, but cringed as the younger woman shook her head violently.

"No! You need to understand that there is nothing you can say at this moment that I want to hear. For the last nine years I thought I knew you. God knows you know everything about me. Now I discover in the _worst way possible_ that you've been lying to me about yourself this whole time. How am I supposed to deal with the fact that the person _I_ _thought I knew_ and the piece of shit that abused a defenseless child are one and the same? Do you have any idea how because I have none!" Grabbing her bag, Fawn stalked towards the door. "Think about that for me, will ya? I'm a little busy right now trying to find my way out of this shit storm you created."

As the door slammed behind Fawn, Tina closed her eyes. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sunk onto the couch and wept bitterly.

* * *

Skipping her way into the Clubhouse, Maddy bee-lined it straight to her grandfather, who was busy sawing wood in one of the upholstered armchairs in the Main Room. With her tiny hands braced on the armrest, Maddy leaned into his face to check if he was really asleep or just faking it.

 _He does that a lot_ , Maddy thought to herself. _Especially around Grandma_.

Straightening up, Maddy lost her grip and fell against Clay's chest, jostling him awake before tumbling to the floor.

Scrambling to her feet, Maddy grinned. "Papa, you're awake! Does that mean you're finished with your nap?"

Still a little bleary eyed, Clay ran a hand roughly over his face. "Looks like I am now."

"Good!" Maddy exclaimed, her arms crossed over her small chest as she leaned against the armrest of Clay's chair. "We're supposed to work on a cage today, 'member?"

"I 'member," Clay replied through a yawn. "Just give me a minute, sweetheart."

Cocking her head, Maddy asked with a raised eyebrow, "Papa, do you mean a real minute, like sixty seconds or are you going back to sleep?"

"Hey, Mad," Jax said as he walked over and scooped his daughter up into his arms. "Maybe you should just let your grandpa sleep in and work with me today instead."

"Wait a minute," Opie called out from his seat on the couch. "Why would she want to hang out with you when she can hang out with her cool Uncle Ope?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Clay said grumpily. "Stop trying to creep on _my_ time with _my_ granddaughter. Get your asses in line and wait your turn."

Missing her two front teeth, Maddy was grinning like a toothless maniac and had to stop herself from clapping with glee. She loved it when the patches of her Daddy's Club fought over her, especially when it was Daddy and Papa doing the squabbling. Truth was, she loved spending time with all of them, even though she got away with a lot more shit with Papa and Uncle Elvis than she ever did with Daddy and Uncle Opie.

Wearing a pair of denim shorts, a white t-shirt and a small T-M work shirt that Uncle Elvis had ordered for her with "Mad" embroidered above the right pocket, and her mop of black curls tucked into a baseball cap, young Maddy was almost the spitting image of her mother at that age.

And, just like his daughter before her, Maddox Gemma Teller was the apple of Clay Morrow's eye.

The outlaw biker was thoroughly enjoying his semi-retirement, especially since he was sharing it with his little shadow Maddy. With his old lady and daughter constantly up his ass about his health, Clay still managed to get himself into a little shit every now and again with his young granddaughter riding shotgun. This summer their secret crime spree included hitting up the local ice cream parlor for Rocky Road sundaes.

Clay would be the first to admit that watching Maddy grow up from an infant had mellowed him out in his golden years. The joy of being able to participate in the raising his granddaughter from infancy was a privilege that he had been denied with her mother. So he didn't look too kindly on anyone that tried to usurp what little time he managed to get with her while she wasn't in school.

About to tell his son-in-law that age had its privileges and that he should take a long walk off a short pier with Ope, Clay's eyes narrowed as the Clubhouse door burst open and Jolene stormed inside, Gemma and Neeta following in her wake.

"Oh shit," He murmured to Bobby, who had just taken a seat next to Opie on the couch. "Looks like someone's in the shit with baby girl."

"Hey, don't look at me," Bobby threw his hands up. "That 'someone' is usually you or Jax."

The SAMCRO Prez's brow furrowed as he took in the angry look on his old lady's flushed face. The fact that his mother was similarly displeased was not lost on the outlaw or his daughter.

"Mommy and Grandma look pissed." Maddy cupped her hand over her father's ear and whispered. "Whatever it was, I didn't do it, Daddy."

"Babe, what's wrong?" Jax asked.

Spotting their middle child comfortably nestled in her father's arms, Jolene's eyes gazed about the room until they focused on Filthy Phil coming from the direction of his dorm. "Phil, can you please do me a favor and take Maddy out to the garage? I need to talk to my old man."

Phil nodded affably. "Sure thing, Mrs. T." He replied. "Come on, kiddo. I'll show you how to flush the crankcase on my ride."

Reluctantly sliding down her father's body, Maddy settled herself on her feet as she eyed her mother with a knowing look. "Somebody's in trouble and all I know is that it ain't me," She announced. "Is it Abel? Why can't I stay and listen?"

Without saying a word, Jolene locked a death glare on her daughter that screamed "Don't fuck with me, little girl!"

"Alright, I'm going," Maddy said dourly as she reluctantly followed Filthy Phil. "But I ain't no baby, you know." She tossed rebelliously over her shoulder, a scowl on her kewpie doll face.

"Mad!" Jax scolded her softly, the commanding tone of his voice enough to get his point across.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." She responded meekly and scuttled off without another word.

Putting an arm around his wife's narrow waist, Jax lifted Jolene's chin so he could look directly into her eyes. "What is it, darlin'?"

"You're NOT gonna believe this shit," Gemma started, moving to stand behind the couple.

"Ma, I wanna hear from my old lady, a'ight?" Jax said testily. "Babe, tell me what's wrong."

Jolene took a deep breath. "It's my mother, Jax. She's in Charming."

Clay eyed his daughter as he stood up. "Uh, baby girl, she's actually right behind you." He said puzzled.

Jolene shook her head. "I'm not talking about Gemma, Dad."

Bobby's bushy eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Shaking his head in disbelief, he started. "You don't mean—"

Jolene nodded quickly. "The one and only." She said angrily.

"What in the fuckin' fuck is Valentina Robles doing in Charming?" Clay spat out, his eyes hooded as he looked at his agitated daughter.

"You gotta be kidding, right?" Opie said blankly. "You're sure it was her? You haven't seen that bitch in years."

"I'm sure and I just saw her," Jolene replied heatedly. "At our old house, Jax."

"What the fuck would she be doing there?" Jax was perplexed.

"She's moving in!" Jolene said in a near shout. Turning to Opie she continued. "She's your fuckin' girlfriend's new partner at the salon!"

"The fuck you say." The SAMCRO VP breathed as he stood up.

"She's not lying." Gemma chimed in. "It's been over thirty years, but I'd know that junky bitch anywhere. I'm sorry, baby girl, but you're her spitting image."

Clay could feel his rage building up in his chest. The last time he had seen Jolene's birth mother had almost been the last time _anyone_ would see her. He had practically beat the whore to death before getting her to sign over permanent custody of their daughter to him 17 years ago. It wasn't one of his proudest moments, but he did what he had to do for his baby. "How is that even fuckin' possible? Why is she here?" He growled.

"I don't know the 'why'," Jolene was seething. "But Fawn literally brought her to my fuckin' front door!" She pounded on her chest with a closed fist, which Jax quickly grabbed to stop her. "She set that woman up in my house without telling anyone who Tina really was!" Pulling out of her old man's arms, Jolene started to pace the room muttering and cursing under her breath.

Jax watched his wife and, under the anger and resentment, he could see the hurt and anxiety. As he listened to a retelling of the events as they had unfolded earlier, Jax noted the heated expressions of everyone in the Clubhouse as voices steadily grew louder. It dawned on him that, even though he felt rage coiled in the pit of his stomach like a venomous snake, only he and Neeta appeared to be containing their shit, which wasn't an easy task for Jax Teller. As a matter of fact, it was extremely difficult because anything that threatened the peace and stability of his family, especially his old lady, was likely to send Jax to a very bad place.

But in the years since becoming the National President of his Club, Jax had come to acquire a great measure of patience and levelheadedness. This was something he had not been in possession of during his youth when he believed that any wrong committed against him and his was only payable by retribution of the bloodiest kind. Putting the hurt he was feeling for his old lady in a box to be dealt with later wasn't easy as he saw her beautiful features twist with emotional pain. But Jax tried to be the voice of reason and moved to quell the lynch mob that would surely form if he didn't pull everyone back from the fuckin' ledge.

Grabbing his old lady again, Jax wrapped an arm around her. "I think we all need to take a minute and calm down."

Neeta rolled her eyes. _Fat chance of that happening_ , she thought. _You are gonna have to work some serious mojo on your old lady to calm her ass down._

"How can we calm down, Jackson?" His mother said wide-eyed. "Fawn has brought that gash right to Charming! I still can't believe she would do that shit to us!"

"Exactly," Jax replied. "Fawn maybe new to our family, but I can't believe she would have deliberately brought Valentina here if she had a clue." Tipping Jolene's face up to meet his, Jax continued. "You and Fawn have grown pretty close recently. I know you must have shared some of your background regarding your birth mother with her."

Jolene ran a shaky hand through her hair as she nodded. "We did. We swapped our fair share of shitty mother stories."

"Did you ask her if she knew who this woman was to you before today?" Jax asked reasonably.

"No," Neeta quickly chimed in. "She did not."

"Look, darlin', I don't know why after all these years your mother would show up now. This shit ain't about trying to mend any kind of fences between the two of you—"

"I should think not!" Gemma huffed.

Shaking his head at his mother, Jax continued. "Right now, Jo, it's about digging out the truth regarding Fawn's involvement before any course of action is taken."

"Then maybe it's best that we get some answers sooner rather than later," Opie replied as he shrugged on his kutte, which had been hanging off of a chair. Wrapping a brawny arm around Jolene's shoulders, he bent over and kissed her tenderly on the forehead. "Listen to your old man, Jo and let me see if I can get Fawn's side of this shit storm, okay?"

Jolene sighed and wearily nodded her consent and watched as Opie headed out of the Clubhouse. Turning his wife over to her father, Jax looked over his shoulder and watched as Jolene nearly disappeared in Clay's bear hug embrace before following his VP outside.

Approaching his brother, Jax watched as Opie mounted his bike and strapped on his helmet.

"This is some serious shit." He said darkly.

"It is, but I can't believe that Fawn brought Valentina to Charming to hurt Jolene deliberately." Opie gunned his motor.

"I don't think so either, brother, but if she did, Ope, that shit isn't going to set well with anyone in this Clubhouse." Jax said evenly. "Just make sure you keep your anger in check, a'ight? I can't afford to have my VP go postal on Fawn. Tigger won't take shit like that lightly and crazy family drama like this can fracture a Club if we're not careful."

"I hear ya, brother."

As Opie roared out of the lot, Jax pulled out his phone and hit his speed dial.

_Better that Tig hear this shit from me than from anyone else._

* * *

Pulling to a screeching halt behind a sporty cage with a trailer hitched to it parked at the curb, Opie got off his ride as he eyed the old Teller property. It looked as good as it ever did, except for the fact that he didn't see Fawn's big ass deuce-and-a-quarter in the driveway.

Having tried her cell phone several times and getting no answer, the SAMCRO VP had decided to look for his woman where she had last been seen. As he strode up the sidewalk, Opie figured that with her car MIA Fawn was probably long gone, but decided to make sure anyway before heading over to Tig's house.

Leaning on the doorbell, he waited impatiently for someone to answer the door. Lost in his thoughts and hoping to find Fawn before she went off the deep end, it barely registered with Opie that the front door had swung open until he heard a soft voice.

"I guess you're looking for Fawn."

And looking down, Opie Winston got just one of many rather huge surprises of the day.

_Shit! Gemma wasn't kidding. This is without a doubt Jo's egg donor._

Looking down at the woman, whose delicate bare feet were sporting pale pink nail polish, Jolene's doppelganger didn't look anything like the Spawn of Satan. As he took her in from head-to-toe, noting that she wasn't much taller than Jolene, the SAMCRO VP could barely keep his face passive as he noted her red-rimmed and swollen eyes.

Shaking his head slightly, it was kind of hard to believe that this was the monster that had made Jolene's life a living hell as a kid. _It's especially fuckin' hard to believe that when all I see is an older version of Jo looking right back at me._

In spite of the fact that the woman had to be in her early 50's, she had managed to keep most of the assets she had passed along to her daughter despite her former hardcore drug use. Opie quickly shook off his musings to get to the matter at hand.

"Is Fawn still here?" He asked abruptly.

"No, I'm sorry," Tina moistened her lips, now dry and devoid of lipstick, as her bright wide eyes took in the behemoth standing in the doorway. "She left some time ago."

"Shit!" He murmured, running a large hand through his hair. Not bothering to say another word, Opie turned to head back to his bike. _Next stop, Tig's place_ , he thought.

"She didn't know."

Stopping short, he turned around. "What?" Opie barked as he took long strides back to the front door.

Tina swallowed the lump in her throat. "Fawn didn't know . . . about me being Jolene's mother. So if you're angry, please don't take it out on her." She practically begged.

Opie narrowed his eyes as he digested that piece of news. "Why should I believe you of all people?" He asked just to be arbitrary.

She hesitated, then opened the door wider. "Please come in, Opie. Maybe I can explain."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know who I am?"

She nodded. "I figured you had to be her guy. I didn't think there would be too many six-and-a-half feet tall bikers in kuttes walking around Charming."

And, despite the fact that he was worried as shit about his Big Red, Opie figured that it might be a good idea to find out what the hell he was going to end up dealing with when he finally found his woman.

So without a word, he walked into the house and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Opening the front door of his house, Tig Trager found himself being accosted by a large bundle of energy as Rocco jumped up on his hind legs to lavish his face with his tongue.

"Hey there, boy." Tig greeted the loving pooch with a kiss on his muzzle as he rubbed his floppy, velvety ears. "Get down now. Where's Fawnzy?"

As if Rocco understood, he turned tail and led Tig through the hallway and foyer into the living room.

Tig's heart nearly broke as he found his daughter lying in a crumpled little ball on the corner edge of the sofa, wads of tissue littering the room. Seeing her red and swollen face and the dried tear tracks on her cheeks pissed the outlaw biker off.

 _She must have been crying for hours before passing out_ , Tig shook his head.

It was his bottle of Johnny Walker Black sitting on the coffee table, however, that had him scared shitless. Walking over to the table, he bent over to pick up the bottle. He gave a soft sigh of relief as he noticed that the seal was unbroken, but it didn't totally assuage his fears or guilt. The last time he had seen the bottle, it had been stashed away in the night table in his bedroom.

 _For Fawnzy to go looking for this shit, she's gotta be hurting_ , Tig thought, determined to help her out of the quagmire she suddenly found herself caught in.

Placing the bottle back on the table, he walked over to the couch, and brushing off a pile of snot rags, Tig sat down next to his kid. Reaching over, he placed a large hand on her slight shoulder and gently shook her awake.

"What?" Fawn asked, barely audible as her sleep-filled voice, still scratchy from her crying fit, rose just above a whisper. Cracking her eyes open and into narrow slits, her blurred vision finally cleared up enough to see the angry look on her father's face. "Dad?"

"What the fuck, Fawnzy?"

"Oh shit." She moaned. _He's mad at me, too._

"Why are you laying here bawling your eyes out? What kind of pussy shit is that? That really pisses me off."

"Dad," Fawn moistened her lips and swiped at the sudden tears streaming down her face. "I know, and I deserve that because I really fucked up."

"Yeah, you did, girlie. Big time." Tig folded his arms across his broad chest. "You make me sit through two weeks of fuckin' do-it-yourself family therapy to fix shit between us—"

"I know." Fawn whined dejectedly.

"And then, after we agree to work stuff out as a family, you fall into a bunch of shit and instead of reaching out to me, calling my ass and asking me for help, you hole up in here like a little bitch?" He said angrily. "I thought we were beyond all this shit, Fawnzy."

"What?" Fawn said weakly.

" _You should have called me_." He insisted. "You shouldn't be here going though this shit alone."

Looking at her father, seeing the anger disappear, and hearing the love and concern in his voice, Fawn suddenly scrambled up to throw herself into his arms. "I'm sorry, Dad. I really fucked up big time and I don't even know what it was that I did. I swear." She said before she started crying again.

"Hey, now, hey." Tig soothed as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, rocking her back and forth. "Damn, baby girl, you really had a pretty shitty day, huh?"

Pulling out of her father's embrace, Fawn grabbed another bunch of tissues to blow her nose and nodded. "Yeah. I'm really in the shit with Jolene."

"No doubt. From what I understand, Doll Face ain't none too happy and neither are her dad or Bobby."

"Shit," She breathed. "Even Bobby?"

"Well, it's to be expected, Fawnzy. Those two crabby bikers raised Jolene together when she first came to Charming." He winced as he took in his daughter's forlorn look. "Anybody who's done shit to harm a hair on her head is bound to get their ass handed to them for their trouble."

"They must hate me."

"I ain't gonna lie, honey. It's not looking too good. Fortunately for you, Jax is trying to calm shit down. I was on my way back from the warehouse when he called me, told me what went down. It's a good thing too since my kid didn't bother to pick up the phone to call me." The SAA sighed. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

With a few short sentences, Fawn managed to give her father the gist of what had gone down.

"Man, that's fucked up, but you can't blame yourself, Fawnzy. I don't." Tig claimed.

"You don't? Really?"

"I don't know how the fuck this happened and I feel bad for Doll Face, I really do. Facing that woman out of the blue like that can't have been easy for her, but I can't believe you had anything to do with that." Tig said sincerely. "Look, as bitches go, Jolene is a good one and she's tough as nails. If anybody can get through dealing with that kind of shit, it's her, but I don't like hearing that she's putting this on you and giving you shit. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate all she's done for me in the past and always will, but you're _my_ kid. We Tragers gotta stick together, come hell or high water, kid. You're the spawn of Trager. I'll _always_ have your back."

Hearing those words were a soothing balm for Fawn. She reached up to press a hard kiss on his cheek. "I really appreciate that, Dad, especially when I know everybody prolly wants my head on a fuckin' platter."

"Yeah, everyone _is_ pissed at you right now, but you're a Trager. You should be used to that shit by now." Tig tried to comfort his daughter with humor. "This is some serious shit, no doubt, but once people take a minute to calm the fuck down, we'll be able to figure it all out. I know you're feeling guilty, but you know you ain't got shit to feel guilty about, right?"

"No, I guess I don't." She sniffed.

Tig then reached over to pick up the bottle of liquor sitting on the coffee table. "I think we need to talk about this, though. You must have really felt like shit to go digging this out."

Fawn didn't know what would be worse—seeing her disappointment in herself reflected in her own eyes or in those of her father's, so she refused to make eye contact with him. "Yeah. I'm a pretty pathetic piece of shit."

"Normally, I would agree," Tig didn't hesitate to reply. "But as the seal ain't broke, you managed not to completely lose it. Or are you really determined to throw away everything you've ever accomplished by drowning your sorrows in booze? You know all this shit's still gonna be around long after this bottle is empty."

Fawn's eyes shot up to meet the stern blue ones looking back at her. "No. Pulling it out was a pretty weak punk ass move, but I figured that out soon enough to keep me from opening the bottle. I was actually gonna pour it down the drain. I know it's your hidden stash, but I thought it was probably best not to have it around."

"Good." Tig stood up and held out a hand to his daughter. "Come on then. Let's take care of that shit together right now."

* * *

Feeling somewhat better after taking a shower, Fawn grabbed a broom and a dustpan to clear the living room floor of the debris from at least two boxes of tissue. The sun was just setting and, even though she had no appetite, Fawn was heading to the kitchen to make some herbal tea when she heard the sound of familiar pipes coming down the street. She froze where she stood when the bike pulled into her driveway.

 _Shit! That's Ope_ , she thought dismally, looking around frantically. For what, she didn't know.

 _I don't see why you're so surprised_ , inner-Fawn replied. _He's been blowing up your phone ever since this shit went down. Guess he got tired of waiting for you to call him back._

 _I was hoping he'd get the message loud and clear that I don't want to see him_ , Fawn retorted. _I already have a good idea how this is gonna go down, so I figured I'd save him the trip._

Fawn was under no illusions. Her father as good as said that those who were in SAMCRO's inner circle were beyond pissed at her about this situation. And since the whole debacle revolved around Jolene Teller, she couldn't see that her Redwood would be any different.

 _No matter how good it was been between us_ , Fawn rationalized since it was clear that Opie loved Jolene like a sister.

Which was why, after convincing Tig that she was okay and could be trusted to be left on her own, Fawn had taken a long shower and changed into one of Opie's oversized flannel shirts she had confiscated from his dorm. Wearing his clothes made her feel close to him, something that she knew would be over soon. Fawn had spent the last couple of hours gearing up to face the inevitable. It didn't take a genius to see that her fairly new relationship with the SAMCRO VP had hit skid row after Tina's revelation, but Fawn Trager would be damned if she let herself get tossed to the fuckin' curb first.

And now seemed to be as good a time as any to end their relationship once and for all. So when a heavy fist started banging on her front door, it was an extremely militant young woman who stalked to the door and threw it open.

"This whole situation is not my fuckin' fault!" Fawn's blue eyes were stormy as she looked up at the outlaw biker who filled out her doorway. "I had no clue that Tina was Jolene's birth mother and I am probably just as angry about this as you are, especially since my best friend has been lying to me for the past nine years! So if you're here to blame me and make me feel like shit, FUCK OFF—"

"Fawn—"

"Because I don't have to take shit from you or anyone else in this town!" She continued, running over Opie as he tried to speak. "As hurt as everyone is, this might be a blessing in disguise for us because I think its best if you and I call it quits. It's obvious that I don't know dick about the MC world and you have no business being with a woman who doesn't have a fuckin' clue who or what her friends are!" Standing back, Fawn completely missed the look of rage that crossed Opie's face before she slammed the door on him.

At least, that was what she _tried_ to do. The behemoth, however, had other plans in mind as he caught the edge of the door in one large fist and walked into the house before slamming the door behind him.

Fawn's eyes widened as she noted the pissed off expression on the outlaw's face, his nostrils flaring as he stalked towards her. Standing before him in bare feet, Fawn suddenly felt overpowered and small, forcing her to retreat backwards into the living room. Before she could find her voice and demand that he leave, Fawn's ass slammed into the armrest of the couch and, cutting loose with a girlie squeal, toppled her over and onto her back.

Seeing the gorgeous redhead splayed out before him like a sinful buffet, Opie smiled grimly. "Utter fuckin' perfection." He muttered under his breath before pouncing.

"Wait—" Fawn managed to get out before the giant Redwood fell on top of her, his lips hungrily smothering hers.

Trying to fight her overwhelmed senses, Fawn moaned as a shot of desire hit her core and pulsated as it continued to build. Inner-Fawn let out a war whoop of victory as—almost against her will—Fawn wrapped her legs around Opie's waist, and fervently returned his kisses.

 _There's no point fighting it_ , Fawn reasoned with herself. _If he wants to hit it one last time, there's no reason I shouldn't get off as well_!

The couch, although quite long in length, was too narrow for what the biker had in mind. Rolling over onto his side, Opie crashed violently on the floor, breaking Fawn's fall as she landed on top of him.

Quickly straddling him, Fawn let out a little screech as Opie reached up to rip open the shirt she was wearing. The buttons made little popping sounds as they landed on the hard surfaces around the room. Grinning in triumph, Opie tossed the offending garment away to reveal his Big Red in all her womanly glory. Quite pleased that she had chosen to go braless as well as commando, he sat up and attached his mouth to the pink nipple of the breast with the vine tattoo. Sucking with enthusiasm, he tried flipping her onto her back. Instead, they slammed up against the coffee table.

"Oh shit!" Fawn moaned, sinking her hands into his thick hair as she urged him on. "Harder, baby, please, damn it!" She whimpered.

 _Fuck! An angry Opie is a fuckin' hot Opie_ , inner-Fawn marveled _. You should have made his ass mad at you more often wh_ _ile_ _you had the chance!_

Still trapped between the couch and the coffee table, Opie came up for air. Wrapping his arms around Fawn, he stood up long enough to walk around the coffee table and collapsed onto his knees on the area rug in front of the large flat screen TV. Dumping his woman on the floor, Opie made quick work of discarding his kutte, boots and clothes before he fell on top of Fawn once again. Catching her mouth in another soul-searing kiss, he came up for air again when he heard a loud woof and looked up into Rocco's warm brown eyes.

"Rocco!" Opie roared. "Get the FUCK OUT!"

Fawn vaguely heard a startled yip and whine as her baby hauled ass back to Tig's bedroom, his toe nails clicking against the hardwood floor. Hooting with laughter, she used her core strength to flip her man onto his back.

"Hold on, baby," She readjusted herself as she straddled his hips. "For our last time, I want it hard and rough." She said, almost out of breath.

Quickly flipping himself back into the dominant position, Opie reached down to bite and alternately suck on the rose tat at the base of her throat as he squeezed and fondled her supple breasts, eliciting a ragged moan from Fawn.

"That's where you're wrong, babe," Opie was breathing hard as he rubbed his erection against her flat stomach. "I'm all for hard and rough, but this is far from our last time together. Before I'm done with you, you'll be begging me for more." He muttered angrily as he pushed himself up. "Open your legs." He demanded. Captivated by the fire in his eyes, Fawn quickly complied.

With her breath caught in her throat, she watched Opie hungrily admire the triangle between her legs, almost hairless except for a neatly trimmed strip of red hair, as his cock jerked with his arousal. Reaching for her, he ran a finger along her moist cleft.

"Opie," She breathed heavily, needing to kiss him, feel him, and to open her legs wider for him. "Oh God!" She cried as his big middle finger entered her. Watching it slip in and out of her tight sheath, Opie groaned when she started rocking her hips against his hand. "Please," She begged and somehow Opie knew what she wanted. As he circled her swollen clit with his thumb, Fawn started shuddering with her need for release. She was desperately pulling on her tight nipples as she finally stiffened beneath his touch. The softness in her eyes as they drifted closed was in direct contrast to the agonized cry she let loose as she came.

As her beautiful tits rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath, Fawn reached for his dick, now as hard as a piece of marble. Opie hissed in a breath as she curled her long, slender fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly as she forced him on his back. Climbing on top of him, Fawn slowly—almost painfully—guided him inside her as she straddled him.

"Fuck!" Opie growled. She was wet, hot, and achingly tight. Opie rolled his hips and Fawn let out a long, low moan. Grabbing onto her hips, he gently bounced her up and down, forcing her to take more of him with each downward thrust.

"Holy shit, Ope!" Fawn cried. "Oh my God! What are you doing?" Her breathing was erratic once again, but Opie didn't slow his pace. Instead, he thrust his hips up to meet hers as flesh slapped against flesh—WHAAP, WHAAP, WHAAP!

Opie was fighting for control, but she felt so fucking good he wanted to feel himself buried to the hilt. "Take it deeper, baby."

Biting her bottom lip and with her hands braced on his tattooed chest, Fawn rose up and cried out as she eased back down farther. The sensation left her aching for more too, so she rocked forward, then sank back harder, taking all of him in and causing Opie to grunt. Prying his hands from the death grip on her hips, Fawn placed his palms over her tits. Groaning, Opie squeezed them as Fawn threw her head back and arched.

"Opie! Oh, God, Opie!" Fawn clutched his powerful thighs behind her and rode him faster, her tits bouncing as his cock disappeared inside her again and again. Seemingly lost in her own pleasure, she writhed on him. Stretching her arms over her head, Fawn held onto her elbows as she whipped her hips, simultaneously whipping Opie into a manic frenzy.

"Jesus Christ, woman!" He rasped, his eyes drinking in the beautiful and wild creature riding him with fierce abandon.

With each snap of her hips, the pressure to come built within him. He almost died a little when Fawn lowered her hands, letting them graze over her luscious body. His breath coming out in a ragged shudder, Opie watched her tweak a nipple with one hand as she used the other to play with her clit.

"Fawn!" His control slipping, Opie drove up hard between her thighs, bouncing her on his shaft.

With her eyes nearly rolling to the back of her head, Fawn gasped, "Again!"

Grabbing onto her plump ass, Opie guided her up and down on his dick as he thrust at the same time. "You like that?"

"Oh God, yes!" Fawn cried, rubbing her clit faster.

"Then come for me, baby." Opie growled.

Licking her lips, Fawn moaned loudly as she wantonly came. Feeling her tight muscles clenching around his still hard cock, his animal instincts kicked into high gear. Before he could stop himself, Opie pushed her onto her back and shoved her legs wide open. Pinning her hands over her head, he began pumping his hips between her thighs, making her beautiful tits bounce.

Fawn was nearly breathless and completely speechless as, with his eyes wild, Opie fucked her hard. His massive body loomed over hers, the muscles in his arms and shoulders coiled from the strain. Feeling her yielding completely to him, Opie rose to his knees and took her with greater force. Gripping her shoulders to hold her in place, Fawn cried out as he plunged into her over and over.

Fawn was dazed. Opie had never taken her like this, without mercy, and she was helpless to do anything more than accept the pleasure he was giving her. With each buck of his hips, he gave a short, rough groan, each growing louder and rougher.

Fawn opened her mouth to scream but made no sound as she came again, her body shuddering violently with every wave that threatened to render her unconscious. Clutching the back of her neck, Opie pulled her towards him and kissed her hard. "You're mine." He declared, his voice gravelly. With his body tensing all around her, his eyes met hers as he came inside her, the force of which left him drained and completely spent. With a final thrust of his hips into hers, Opie collapsed on top of Fawn, his breathing harsh and hot against her neck as his heart pounded against hers.

As Fawn laid in a sweaty heap, trying to catch her breath with 250 pounds of hot and angry biker breathing like a race horse on top of her, there was only one thought running through her head.

_Damn it! I couldn't leave you now even if I wanted to. I am yours._

* * *

Fawn soon found herself slowly drifting into unconsciousness and would have passed out too had she not felt like a sore and bruised up mess. Lazily stretched out on top of the deep, thick pile brown area rug with her outlaw lover nearly smothering her, Fawn smiled because the pain she was feeling now had been totally fuckin' worth it.

Slowly coming back to the reality of the situation, Fawn used her hip to nudge at the immovable leg that had her trapped underneath Opie as she attempted to wriggle her way to freedom.

"Not so fast, Big Red." Opie murmured drowsily. "I ain't done with ya just yet."

Letting out a bitter chuckle, Fawn said, "I beg to differ." Now having recovered from the onslaught that was Opie Winston, Fawn was quickly doing her best to revert the situation back to her new status quo. "I meant what I said, Redwood. We're done."

As Opie pushed himself up, Fawn took the opportunity to scramble out from underneath him. Suddenly, she found herself semi-airborne as Opie flipped her up and over, gently slamming her back onto the carpet as she looked up at a pair of fiercely determined green eyes. "Are you back on that shit again?"

Fawn did her best to avoid his searching gaze as she ineffectually pushed against his brawny chest, not budging him an inch. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I fuckin' am." She replied tersely, still trying to break loose. "And what the fuck are you gonna do about it? I'm not sticking around just to have you tear me another asshole over this shit with Jolene and Tina. I didn't know shit—"

"I know."

"And I don't care if you believe me or not—"

"I do believe you."

Suddenly, Fawn stopped struggling. "Huh?" She asked stupidly.

Opie sighed. "I said," He enunciated slowly. "I know you didn't know about Tina and I don't blame you, babe."

"But," Fawn stammered. "Jolene does and she said—"

"Yeah, I know what she said, but I know different." Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled them both up into a sitting position. "I spoke to Tina."

Fawn's mouth gaped open and closed, resembling a shocked fish. "You spoke to—when?"

"A few hours ago. That wasn't part of the plan, but I went looking for your fine ass at Jolene's old house after you refused to return my calls. Tina invited me in and pretty much confirmed my suspicions that you didn't know about her history with Jo."

"Oh really?" She crossed her arms over her naked chest. "What makes you think I didn't know?"

"Because I took my time getting to know you, Big Red. You and Tigger may share the inability to keep your foot out of your mouths, but there's not an evil bone in your body." Opie replied, their eyes locked. "Besides, you blew up so much shit from the moment you set foot in Charming that there was no fuckin' way you could have kept this shit quiet without dropping the dime on yourself a long time ago." He said cheekily.

"Asshole!" Fawn balled up a fist and hit him on his shoulder as Opie laughed. Resting her forehead against his, Fawn chuckled. "I guess you know my ass better than I thought, huh?"

"I should. I've been chasing after it long enough." He smiled, giving her a quick kiss. "It still took me a minute to wrap my head around this situation, though. I had to go for a ride to clear my head before I came looking for you."

Running her hands through his tousled head of hair, Fawn sighed. "Guess you're a better judge of character than I am. How the fuck could I not know important shit like this about the one person I always thought had my back?" She asked forlornly. "I feel like such an idiot, Ope."

"You shouldn't, babe. It's not like this was information she willingly volunteered and you chose to ignore."

"Something wasn't right all along. I just didn't want to clue into it." Fawn started. "I mean, she wasn't planning on coming to the grand opening of the salon. Then when she offered to help the salon with some money, I had to practically twist her arm to come in as a partner and force her hand into coming to Charming. Even then she was being a little skittish and insisted on keeping a low profile while in town." Fawn sighed and looked up at Opie. "Shit, she did everything except come right out and say that something wasn't kosher."

"So what's the plan for dealing with this?"

" _Plan_?" She yelped. "I don't have any fuckin' plan."

"Well, we better come up with one, don't you think?" Opie advised.

Fawn furrowed her brow. " _We?_ "

Opie quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, we. I'm not gonna let you flop around in this mess on your own anymore than I'm gonna let you get rid of me." _I'm here for the long haul, baby_ , Opie thought but didn't say.

Fawn felt her heart tighten in her chest, overwhelmed by feelings for the outlaw biker she had never felt with anyone else before. She smiled in spite of the tears that quickly welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "So we're not done?"

"Not by a long shot, baby."


	20. Seasons Change, People Don't

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Stepping out onto the curb, Fawn slammed shut the door of her Buick. It was late afternoon on Saturday and, after putting in a half-day at the salon, Fawn found herself driving to the now-familiar cul-de-sac instead of heading straight home.

Having been stunningly blindsided by her friend, Fawn hadn't expected to make this trip to what should have been Tina Giamatti's home away from home, but instead sheltered Charming's Public Enemy No. 1, Valentina Robles. Prepared to stay angry and hurt after what she felt was her friend's betrayal, it had taken Redwood's calming influence to make Fawn see things from a different perspective.

 _After all she has done for you in the past, Tina deserves the chance to be heard before you kick her ass to the curb_ , Opie had advised firmly _. She must have had her reasons for not being honest with you and maybe now is the only chance you'll ever get of finding out what they are._

Besides, in Opie's mind, Fawn didn't love people easily—and he was right—which meant that she must have loved Tina for a good reason. Reluctantly, Fawn had to admit to herself that reason had been that Tina was indeed a kind-hearted and genuinely good person. After what had happened the day before, however, Fawn was still questioning whether Tina was or had ever really been a true friend to her.

Maybe, Fawn reasoned, she really was just a bad judge of character as her initial reaction to Opie Winston seemed to imply. Judging him harshly as obnoxious and mean after their first meeting, Fawn quickly found out in their short time together that the fierce outlaw biker was also a calm, reasonable, and loving man. His soothing presence in her life was just one of the many things she loved about him.

 _Love?!_ Fawn balked and quickly shied away from that term as she re-focused on the matter at hand.

According to Opie, there was only one way for Fawn to decide whether or not to end her friendship with Tina and that was by allowing her to give Fawn her side of the story. After so many years of being there for her, at the very least, Tina deserved the opportunity to explain herself. She was probably feeling very much alone and in need of the only friend she, for the moment, still had in town.

So Fawn had decided to take Opie's advice. With him hovering close by for support, Fawn had called Tina before going to bed the night before for what had been a very stilted conversation, which ended with the two women agreeing to meet once Fawn had wrapped up with her Saturday afternoon clients.

Now as she looked at the sand-colored house with the beautiful terracotta-tiled roof, the young woman inhaled deeply and exhaled.

 _Bottom line, I have to admit that my Big Fellah is right_ , Fawn decided as she headed up the walkway. _Tina and I have been friends for too long for me to let our relationship suffer an unjustified death._

Determined to repair their shit, Fawn Trager rang the doorbell.

* * *

Hearing a car pull up in front of the house, Tina Giamatti rushed from the kitchen to the living room window facing the street to peek through the blinds. Seeing Fawn exit Frank's car, she let loose a sigh of relief, grateful that her dear friend had not bailed on her yet.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror by the front door, Tina winced as she pinched her cheeks in the hopes of giving them some color. The last 24 hours had taken its toll on the older woman. She had suffered a sleepless night in spite of her long road trip to Charming, managing to finally fall into a brief slumber just as the early morning sun crept in through the windows of the master bedroom.

After taking a shower, Tina had put her knowledge culled from her many years as a cosmetologist to good use. Using a stunning array of professional-quality cosmetics, she had been able to somewhat disguise the fact that she had awoken looking every one of her 53 years and then some. The face lift she had gotten before Frank passed away was certainly paying off in dividends because she knew she could be looking much worse.

Seeing her look-alike daughter had been a painful reminder of not only the mistakes she had made as a mother, but the bad lifestyle choices she had made that had added many years to her actual age. It was important to her that she present a good appearance today, considering that it might be the last time she'd have the chance to be face-to-face with her surrogate daughter ever again. She didn't want the last image the young woman took away with her to resemble Valentina in any way. That woman may have been long dead, but she still haunted Tina and, unfortunately, Jolene. She shouldn't be allowed to haunt Fawn as well.

Tina had loved Frank. She still did and missed him everyday, but Frank had been wrong. Sometimes you can't outrun your past, no matter how hard you try. Although sometimes unpredictable, Fawn had mellowed with age and even though she was a tough cookie, she wasn't completely unreasonable. She didn't, however, take hurt feelings lightly, especially when those doing the hurting were the people she loved. She had proved that by alienating herself from the father she once believed could walk on water. What chance did an ex-junky with a history of child abuse stand?

But hearing Fawn's voice over the phone last night after she had stormed off—leaving Tina behind, broken and just on this side of pitiful—had given her hope that she still had a chance. Knowing Fawn, it would probably be her one and only opportunity to set things straight between them and Tina prayed that she would be able to convince her young friend to find it in her heart to forgive her.

* * *

"Why? Why not tell me the fuckin' truth from the beginning?" Fawn said quietly.

"Because Frank convinced me not to," Tina replied wearily. "I know that's not much of an answer for you."

"Then maybe you need to be a little clearer. Are you telling me Frank knew that—" Fawn hesitated, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat.

"That once upon a time I was a completely worthless piece of shit? Yes, he knew." Tina replied evenly as she looked into the eyes of her friend. "It wasn't something I could keep from him."

"But you kept it from me?" Fawn retorted.

"Yes, I did," Tina lamented. "But now knowing that keeping this from you may kill our friendship, I bitterly regret that decision."

The two women found themselves sitting on the couch again in the living room, a carafe of coffee and a couple cups sitting on the table in front of them.

"I can't wrap my head around this. You need to explain shit to me, Tina." Fawn said, then huffed angrily. " _Tina!_ Jesus Christ, that's not even your fuckin' name, _Valentina!_ "

"Tina IS my name," Tina said indignantly. "I earned it. It took a long time to pull myself out of the fuckin' gutter and forget the person I used to be, so don't ever call me that name again! As far as I am concerned that person died 17 years ago. I made sure of that shit."

"She may be dead to you, but to Jolene Teller and the rest of her family, Valentina is alive and kicking and living in her fuckin' house." Fawn ran her hands through her hair agitatedly.

"I know. I never planned on setting foot in Charming and I certainly didn't expect to be set up in my daughter's old home _._ " Tina replied. "I came for you, Fawn. I missed you so much and you needed my help. I was stupid to think I would be able to keep a low profile long enough to explain my connection to the MC at the right time." She shrugged her shoulders.

"The right time?" Fawn asked in disbelief. "The right time came and went the moment _you_ found out about _my_ connection to the MC years ago and chose to say nothing."

"I know that now, Fawn!" Tina retorted.

Fawn grabbed her cup of lukewarm coffee just to give herself a moment to regroup. This conversation was turning out to be more painful than the many talks she had with Tig about their relationship. Fighting the urge to leave Tina high and dry for now, Fawn realized that hearing what her friend had to say would never get any easier, no matter how long she put it off for. Putting her cup down again, she turned to Tina. "Maybe we should get back to Frank and how he convinced you to _lie_ to me."

"I know you're angry, and you have every right to be, but don't take it out on Frank's memory because it wasn't like that." Tina started. "Frank only ever knew me as Tina, a happy, carefree woman looking for someone to love. When we started dating, he put me on a pedestal. He said he was lucky to have me in his life because I made him happy. Frank was getting serious about me and that's when I knew I had to tell him. I couldn't continue hiding the fact that I didn't— _couldn't_ —drink any of the expensive bottles of wine he had given me as gifts. So one night, before I could let things get truly serious between us, I gathered enough courage to tell him the whole ugly truth about my past."

"And that was?"

Tina sighed. _Here comes the truly hard part_.

"That a very long time ago, my life revolved solely around sex and drugs. That during one of my many sexual encounters, I met a man I really cared about, but partying and getting high kept me from being faithful. That when he found out I was fucking around on him and doing drugs, he kicked me to the curb. And that when I found out I was pregnant, I was so hurt by him leaving me after filling my head with promises, I tried getting an abortion, but couldn't because I was already five months along." Tina trembled at the look of shock on her friend's face.

"I may have been young and stupid, but I honestly did believe that I loved Clay Morrow and, instead of giving her up for adoption at birth, I decided to keep the baby because I wanted to. In the back of my mind, I had always hoped he'd come back and, until he did, I thought I could do it on my own, but it was hard. With the little money I got from the government, I could barely make ends meet, but it wasn't all bad. Not at first." Tina related, not breaking eye contact with Fawn. "I was clean and sober, for the most part. I still liked to party and motherhood slowed me down, but only just a little. I still dabbled a bit with alcohol and smoked weed and I had men falling all over me all the time. I'm not boasting or being conceited, that's just the way it was. I was young and beautiful—like Jolene—and I loved sex. But, believe it or not, I did turn down my fair share of men. One in particular was incredibly persistent and, when I refused to give him the time of day, he offered me money to suck his dick. I was shocked and offended, at first, but then he said I could name my price. I thought about how hard and expensive it was raising a baby alone, so I did it. He became a regular when I started turning tricks—not on street corners, but through word of mouth. And that word spread pretty fast.

"One night, I opened my door to the wrong trick. He turned out to be a pimp who thought I was cutting into the action for his street girls and he beat me within an inch of my life before raping me." Tina felt her heart clench when she saw a tear escape from the corner of Fawn's eye even though her lovely face seemed to be set in stone. "He knew I had a baby and threatened to kill us both if I didn't join his stable. I was so scared, I said I would, but the entire time he was forcing me to have sex with him, I was planning my escape. I was determined to get me and my baby out of Seattle. All those plans went to shit, though, because before leaving, my new pimp shot me up with H. I'd never done it before and after I was never the same again. I was hooked.

"That drug sent me spiraling out of fuckin' control. I let shit happen to Jolene that any mother in her right mind would be ashamed of. My pimp— _Pretty Ricky_ —would force Jolene to practically live in a closet because he didn't want to pay someone to watch her while I turned tricks. Sometimes she would stay in that closet for days, afraid to come out. I was trapped in a pitiful existence I had created for myself. Frustrated, I'd get drunk and take my anger out on Jolene by beating her. I'd regret it later, but I couldn't stop myself. As strung out and fucked up as I was, though, I knew that I had to get her out of there before something truly horrible happened, especially after Ricky decided that putting lit cigarettes out on her little body was a good way to get her to stop crying about being hungry. When I spoke up, _finally_ , after hearing her cry out in pain for what seemed like forever, he punched me so hard he broke my jaw. He got sent away and did short time for domestic battery and that's when I called CPS myself. Told them I couldn't handle my daughter anymore, that she was a problem child. I was a horrible and disgusting excuse for a mother, but I did the only thing I could think of. I gave her away to the State of Washington and that probably saved her life." Tina wiped away a few errant tears. "I know you've never done anything even remotely as bad as me, but you've been low enough to understand what it's like to hit rock bottom, right? That place where the pain you are causing the ones you supposedly love means nothing compared to your next hit. You can understand that, can't you?

Fawn scrubbed her face with her hands to keep herself from scratching at the phantom track marks on her arms. "Yeah, I did some serious damage when I was on the line."

Tina nodded sympathetically. "It may have taken me a long time to hit rock bottom, but when I did, there was only one way left for me to go, and that was up. It took a long time before rehab finally stuck, but once Ricky was out of the picture, I worked really hard on salvaging what was left of my life. Frank understood that and he believed that human beings have a great capacity for change if they really want it. He knew that I would never be able to forgive myself for what I had done to my daughter, but he convinced me that as long as I held onto the past, I would never be able to truly move forward with him and I wanted that so very badly _._ By then, I knew that Jolene hated me with a passion and wanted nothing to do with me. I could only blame myself for that, so I turned my back on the past and looked forward to a future with Frank."

Tina smiled ruefully. "Then, only two short years later, you came into my life and we bonded almost immediately." Tina reached out and squeezed Fawn's hand. "You remember?"

Fawn grinned. "How could I forget? Sasha dumped me at the shampoo station, telling me absolutely nothing as to what was expected of me. I had the training, but no idea how he ran his salon. All he did say was that I had only one shot to impress him and, if I didn't, he was going to fire me at the end of the week. I was like a deer caught in the headlights, but you took pity on me and took me under your wing."

"I had to." Tina laughed. "Everyone working in that salon had been through the same shit with Sasha, yet no one stepped forward to show you the ropes. Besides, from the moment we met, I knew you were different from all those chicken heads working there. Getting to know you, I realized that we had gone through a lot of the same shit, except you got smart and cleaned up a lot sooner than I ever did. Call me crazy, but I felt like I was given a second chance to be a proper mother—a mentor—to someone who needed and wanted my support. Later, learning about your ties to Charming came as a complete shock, but the thought of telling you the truth terrified me. There was nothing I could do to change my past and I was afraid you'd hate me, so I kept quiet."

"And came to Charming without a word of warning anyway." Fawn whispered.

"I'm sorry. That was so wrong of me on so many levels that I can't blame you if you hate me." Tina replied.

Fawn shook her head. "I don't hate you. I'm just hurt. Really, really, _really_ hurt."

Tina covered her face with her hands. "I can only imagine how Jolene feels," She looked at Fawn. "Except I know for a fact that she hates me and I knew that before yesterday. As much as I knew coming to Charming was not a good idea, I realized that maybe I was being pushed into this situation for a reason. I can claim that I'm a different person today than I was 17 years ago, but until I atone for the shit I did and seek forgiveness from the people I hurt, I can never really close that door behind me, you know?"

Tina was referring to one step of the 12-step program she and millions of other addicts have followed on the road to recovery. Fawn sighed. "Step Nine: Make amends to all persons we have harmed while in the throes of our addiction. I remember it well, but Tina, it also says to make amends only if by doing so won't hurt them or others. In this situation, I don't know if that's possible, at least not right now."

Tina shook her head. "You're right. I've been here all of one day and all I've done is open up old wounds. I think it's best if I just go back to Seattle." She watched as Fawn's eyes widened. "I have to, honey. After all these years, I have to finally face the fact that there is no atonement for me where Jolene is concerned. Maybe my act of atonement should have been to stay away from her and from you. All I wanted was for you to make peace with your father. In the process, you've built this whole new life for yourself and found a really good man in Opie Winston, a new family and a friend in Jolene and it kills me that I may have ruined that for you. And for chrissake's, I'm sitting in the home of a daughter that I treated like shit! I can't stay here."

"So running away is the answer?" Fawn jumped up to pace around the room. "You just knocked everybody's lives for a fuckin' loop and all you can think of doing is turning tail and running, leaving me behind to sort out the mess?"

"No, no," Tina shook her head sadly. "I don't want to."

"Then don't." Fawn said adamantly. Sitting on her haunches in front of Tina, Fawn took her hands in hers. "Stay here and we'll work this shit out together. It won't be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is. I'm not promising that you'll work things out with Jolene, but _I_ love you and want you in _my_ life. The time for hiding is over."

* * *

Fawn placed the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and turned it on. Leaning against the counter, she surveyed the now clean kitchen.

After a very intense discussion with Tina spanning late afternoon into early evening, the two women were spent, emotionally and physically. Although starving after being unable to eat because of the anxiety, Tina felt too guilty to enjoy any of the food that Jolene and Neeta had brought over. Instead, just like old times, the two friends worked together to make a light meal to refresh themselves.

It had been a difficult time for both women, to say the least. Finally hearing from Tina the truth about her past history with Jolene and the former SAMCRO President had not been easy. As the adult child of an absentee parent, who for the most part was a hardened criminal, while growing up, Fawn could understand to a certain extent the pain Jolene must have suffered growing up. But as a recovering junky who had hurt not only herself but the people she cared about as well, Fawn could understand what had driven Tina to do the horrible things she had done. Fawn felt truly stuck between feeling empathy for her new friend Jolene and sympathy for Tina, who—after working so hard to overcome her past—was in no way, shape or form the weak-willed and selfish Valentina.

Resolved that her relationship with SAMCRO would probably never be the same again, Fawn was determined to keep Tina from jumping into her car and hauling ass back to Seattle. Now it was time for Tina to take a dose of her own medicine—the home truths she had shoved down Fawn's throat about repairing the broken relationship with her father—and work on doing the same in her own life. Although Fawn knew it was highly unlikely that the young SAMCRO Queen would ever forgive her birth mother, it was important that Tina face up to how her actions—past and present—had devastated her daughter and affected her extended family.

Putting on a pot of fresh coffee, Fawn heard the front doorbell. Thinking it was her Redwood, she tossed the kitchen towel on the table and headed towards the foyer, where she was met by Tina.

"Who in the world could that be?" Tina asked cautiously.

"Prolly Ope," Fawn smiled. "He said if he didn't hear from me after a while, he would drop by to help me get rid of your body."

"A man that knows his woman so well is a keeper, Fawn." Tina teased, cracking a smile.

But that lovely smile was quickly replaced by shock as she opened the door to face Clay Morrow.

* * *

Clarence Morrow never thought of himself as a forgiving man for the simple fact that he wasn't. If anyone was stupid enough to move against him or his family, his reaction would normally be ruthless and without mercy. It was his way, his nature.

So as he held his baby girl in his arms to comfort her after hearing that Valentina Robles was alive and well and currently in Charming, all of his old anger, rage and resentment bubbled once again to the surface. This was the same piece of shit that had abused his only child when she had been helpless and the most vulnerable and he had let her live. Once.

Clay had not planned on coming to his daughter's old home to confront his former gash girlfriend. Jax had made it pretty clear that it was best for everyone to tread carefully concerning this situation. But Clay's instincts always led him to react from the gut and this old leopard was too damn old to change his spots.

After half-heartedly pushing the chicken stir-fry Gemma had made for dinner around on his plate, Clay had retreated to his man cave to think. Sitting behind his large desk, he pulled an old photo album from the bookcase behind him. No one would guess he still had it and that it was probably his most prized possession. The album was an art project Jolene had made during her first year at Charming Elementary. She had been eight years old at the time. Eight was pretty late for a child to start school, but Jolene had been home-schooled along with Tommy Teller by Gemma until the young boy had died.

The album, made with cardboard and colorful construction paper, was a depiction of Jolene's family as seen through her young eyes. Clay chuckled to himself as he flipped through the pages. So young and it was clear that Jolene's OCD had already kicked in, if her attention to detail in putting it together was anything to go by. Carefully hand drawn pictures illustrating her SAMCRO family were interspersed with actual color snapshots, most of which she had taken herself. Even back then Clay could see just how proud she was to be a part of SAMCRO and how much she loved her family.

Clay grinned to himself as he looked at one picture in particular depicting her and Jax as stick figures, sitting on what was supposed to be a bike. He could tell it was them from the black crayon used to draw Jolene's wild and curly locks while a gold crayon had been used for Jax's flaxen hair.

 _Even back then baby girl had a thing for the little shithead_.

Clay's favorite photo, however, was one in which he was holding Jolene in his arms shortly after her arrival in Charming, her small frame sandwiched between him and Bobby Elvis. As his large fingers traced the outline of her small cherub face, he angrily recalled the condition she had been in when they first met—half-starved with fading bruises and scars from cigarette burns on her tiny body.

 _What kind of sick and twisted fuckin' whore could do that to her own child_? He bitterly thought. _And how the fuck can that gash show up in Charming without fear that, even after all these years, Jolene's family would want some sort of payback_?

Nearly eight years ago Jolene had learned through the psycho-bitch ATF Agent June Stahl that somewhere along the way Valentina had rehabilitated herself. The point had been of little interest to both Jolene and Clay when his daughter had finally gotten around to sharing that bit of Intel. But now Clay wanted—no, he needed some fuckin' answers from the supposedly changed woman. For Jolene's sake, he needed to know just exactly what her agenda was.

_Because if she has any intention of bringing any further harm to my baby girl, I won't make the mistake of letting her live twice._

* * *

_She's changed_ , Clay was surprised, but his many years as an outlaw biker did not allow that fact to change his cold and angry features as he took in the woman standing in front of him.

The last time he had laid eyes on her, Tina had been in her late thirties and it had been painfully obvious that her lifestyle had started taking a toll on the once-beautiful woman. Looking at her now, it seemed that the woman had not only stopped time, but had managed to push it back as well. Taking in her still-lush body, the smooth skin of her heart-shaped face and sparkling green eyes, Clay was struck by how eerily similar she was to his baby girl. Wearing a lounging suit in deep cranberry with her face devoid of make-up, Clay was hard pressed to believe that the gash was now in her 50s.

Tina Giamatti felt the color drain from her face as the tall and angry biker practically towered over her as he stood in the doorway.

Although he had never been what anyone would call pretty boy handsome, back in the day, his self-confidence and rough-around-the-edges bad boy attitude had women falling at his feet. When Clay Morrow walked into a room, you knew it. And looking at him now, Tina was pretty sure that was still the case. His large frame was quite powerful-looking and, even though nearly 34 years had passed since they had been together, Tina could still imagine what it felt like to have those huge cannons wrapped around her. When things had been good between them, they had been very good. In his arms, Tina had always felt well-cared for and protected, and those piercing blue eyes had melted her in ways no man has since.

But when things had gone bad between them, well, they had almost proved fatal for Valentina Robles. Those oversized mitts, that once upon a time could palm her ass cheeks quite easily, packed a powerful wallop. Now, just like back then, wearing his trademark blue bandana tied around his head and his ever-present kutte, he was still intimidating and dangerous, especially after removing his dark riding glasses. Eyes that used to make her tingle, almost had her recoiling in fear as she could see not only the shock reflected in his eyes from seeing her again, but the anger and hatred he felt towards her as well.

As they continued staring at one another, Fawn stood in the background fighting the urge to wring her hands to shreds. Even with her back to her, Fawn could see that Tina was petrified. She was visibly trembling as Clay glared at her as if she were a disgusting cockroach he wanted to stomp into fuckin' bits with the heel of his boot. Seeing her confident and outspoken friend reduced to a cowering mess brought Fawn's protective side to the forefront. Stalking towards the door, she stepped around Tina to stand directly in front of Clay.

"Clay, if you came here to act the fool—with all due respect—it might be best if you just turn around, get back on your ride and leave." She said calmly.

"Oh my God, Fawn—" Tina said urgently. "Don't lose your shit. Not with him."

"You would be wise," Clay said in a hard tone. "To listen to the gash. You don't want to fuck with me, little girl. Not today."

"That goes both ways," Fawn retorted confidently, even though her heart was pounding in her ears. "And for the record, please don't call her that again."

"Fawn, please." Tina urged. Stepping around her friend, she faced the former SAMCRO President. "I figured you'd come by."

"You figured right." Clay replied. "Now, is the plan to keep my ass standing in the fuckin' doorway?"

"Maybe we should all go inside." A voice rang out in the dark, coming from behind Clay. Fawn nearly collapsed with relief as she saw her Redwood walk up to the front door.

"What are you doing here, Ope?" Clay asked silkily.

"Checking up on Big Red here." The SAMCRO VP replied affably as he stepped around his brother to wrap an arm around Fawn. "It's been a while and I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. I guess it's a good thing I decided to stop by."

"You have no fuckin' idea," Fawn whispered into Opie's neck as she hugged him. "It was about to get ugly in here."

"That's definitely still a possibility," The older biker said. "But I didn't come here to talk to you." He directed at Fawn with a hard glint in his eye. Walking into the foyer, he turned his attention to Tina. "We need to talk."

Before Fawn could protest, however, Opie spoke. "I think that's a good idea, as long as talking is all you have in mind, Clay. I don't think it would go over well with our Prez if you had something else planned." The subtle warning was not lost on anyone, especially Clay, who turned to glare at Opie.

After a beat, Clay grinned widely. "Wouldn't dream of it, VP."

After giving Clay a slight nod, Opie turned his attention to Fawn, kissing her forehead. "Come on, baby," He guided her towards the back of the house. "Let's give them some privacy and you can fill me in on your day." Seeing that she was about to protest, Opie cut Fawn off. "Don't worry. _Everyone_ knows I won't tolerate having you worry about Tina's well-being."

Literally pulling Fawn along with him, Opie looked behind to see Tina's panicked face and Clay's stone cold one.

_Shit, this better not go south._

* * *

For the last fifteen minutes, Tina had withstood the onslaught that was Clay Morrow as he verbally ripped her to shreds. The Morrow temper was something to behold and all Tina could be grateful for was that there were witnesses on hand who could hopefully prevent him from giving into his desire to beat her to a bloody pulp.

"I didn't come here to start trouble." Tina pleaded.

"Really?" Clay derided. "I'm having trouble believing that shit, especially since you've been nothing but trouble for my kid from the day she was born." The outlaw paced back and forth as Tina watched him from her position on the couch.

Into the brief silence, she finally spoke. "I came to Charming to support Fawn with her business, Clay. I had hoped to keep my visit under the radar until I could break the news to her gently."

"And like most shitty plans, it didn't fuckin' work out that way, did it?" Clay said angrily. "You know the Club, you know how we work. Knowing that the young woman you claim to love like a daughter has taken up with the SAMCRO VP, you owed it to her to tell her _before_ coming to Charming. This coming under the radar shit left everyone exposed."

"So what are you saying, Clay? Had I come clean before, SAMCRO would have allowed me to come to Charming to help Fawn out without repercussions?"

"Number one, we'll never know now, will we? And number two, what fuckin' repercussions are you talking about? No one, including me surprisingly, has touched a hair on your head."

Tina shook her head. "I wasn't talking about me, Clay. I meant Fawn. Aside from Opie and her father Tig, she's been ostracized by the Club she was starting to consider family. It's just not fair that all of the relationships she has cultivated over the past several months be stripped from her because of something that wasn't her fault."

"The sun shines out of your ass as far as she's concerned, so maybe we shouldn't trust her poor judgment. Not only should we keep her out of the Clubhouse, but maybe Ope needs to reconsider his taste in pussy and—"

"Stop!" Tina jumped up from the couch. "You want to punish someone for showing poor judgment, punish me. I'll take whatever you've got to give, but leave Fawn alone. Don't ruin the new life she's creating for herself here with Opie and his kids. You have no idea how much they mean to her."

Clay eyed Tina as she stood defiantly before him. "You'll take whatever I've got to give, huh?" He smirked. "What if I decide I wanna take you out for a ride out in the desert, but only one of us gets to come back? Since nobody touches my bike, one guess as to who that would be. You up for anything then?"

Tina forced herself to swallow the sudden mouthful of bile. "So be it." She replied, trying to keep tears from falling and failing.

Clay looked at her for a long time without saying a word. The junky Valentina he knew would be cowering at his feet begging that her life be spared. Finally opening his mouth to speak, Clay found he had to clear his throat before the words would come forth.

"You have so much love for Tig's kid, why keep this shit hidden from her? To hear her talk, you know everything about her. Why not return the favor?"

"The last person I ever divulged my past to was my late husband. He accepted me, warts and all and before we got married, he made me promise that I would leave my past in the rearview. I no longer had any contact with anyone from my former life, so at the time it seemed like a good idea. I got to live my life with a clean slate." Tina explained.

Clay chuckled sarcastically. "It was easy for him to say leave that shit in the rearview. Jolene wasn't his kid!"

Tina recoiled only slightly as Clay yelled in her face. "It was also easy because he never knew 'Valentina'." She said softly. "I'm not gonna kid myself by thinking that had he known me then, he would have been able to look past it and see only 'Tina'. He was a good man, and very much like you in the sense that he considered himself nobody's fool. I have no way of knowing how forgiving he would have been then." She replied sadly. "I guess I never told Fawn because I was ashamed of myself. She knew I'm an ex-junky and I felt that was all she needed to know. But as much as this is hurting everyone right now, I'm so glad this shit is finally out in the open. As much as I came here for Fawn, I was hoping I'd get to see you face-to-face."

"Me? What the hell for?" Clay asked disbelievingly.

"To let you know that in spite how things ended between us, I really did love you, Clay."

The outlaw biker cut loose with a harsh bark of laughter. Over the years, before marrying Gemma, Clay had done all he could to forget that he too had once been head over heels with Valentina. He'd bite off his own tongue before admitting that to her now. "You had a funny way of showing it—drinking and getting high and fucking any asshole that gave you the time of day. Is it any wonder I had doubts about Jolene being my kid?"

"I can't blame you for ending things between us. I was fucked up even back then, but it hurt that you wouldn't give me a second chance. I thought I really had something with you and I refused to acknowledge that it had been my fault we were over. When I found out that I was pregnant, I was so hurt and angry that I wanted to get rid of the baby."

Clay's eyes were pitiless as they watched the woman. "Thank God that shit didn't happen."

Tina moistened her lips. "Yes, thank God. I can't blame you if you can't believe that I did love Jolene."

"Good, because I don't."

"Heroin coupled with a degenerate lifestyle changed me, Clay, but I'm not trying to pass the buck because only I was responsible for my actions. A part of me did die and I did shit to Jolene that there can't be any forgiveness for." She said brokenly. Tina tried to stop the tears that were in her eyes from rolling down her cheeks, but she was simply unable to.

Clay watched as the woman he had always thought to be an unfeeling bitch literally broke down in front of him. In spite of his overwhelming anger, he found himself a little moved. Shutting that feeling down, he refused to show any empathy.

"Handing Jolene over to CPS was the best I could think of doing for her. It allowed you to find each other." Tina claimed.

"Only to have Family Court take her away from me again. You tore her away from her family and her life in Charming and what for? Child support and so some dirt bag could try to rape her?! And even worse, instead of defending her, you turn around and accuse her of trying to move in on your pimp!"

Tina nodded miserably. "I did and I'm sorry. I knew better. Not only could've coming to her defense been a turning point in my relationship with Jolene, but it would have gotten us out of that situation with Ricky. Hindsight is 20-20, but I wasn't ready at that point to get clean and my poor decision-making came back to bite me in the ass when you came looking for retribution. You beat the ever-loving shit out of me and that's why I wanted to see you."

"Why?" Clay asked sarcastically. "You gonna have me arrested?"

"No," Tina shook her head, her eyes making and holding contact with his. "Because I wanted to thank you."

* * *

It was a weary and somewhat emotionally-drained biker that pulled into the Tellers' driveway. Sitting on his ride as he took his time removing his helmet and gloves, Clay used those extra moments to regroup and inhale a couple of deep lungfuls of fresh air before heading to the front door.

Not a man who dealt particularly well with emotional drama, Clay was mostly concerned with how Jolene would react. Although his little girl had the uncanny ability to remain stoic and emotionally detached under pressure—just one of the many ways she made an outstanding old lady for the SAMCRO Prez—the whole Tina/Valentina situation he was sure had hit her pretty close to home. Although Jolene rarely ever spoke about her birth mother or of the time she spent living with her in Seattle as a teenager, Clay knew that aside from any threats to the health and safety of her loved ones, her egg donor was baby girl's Achilles' Heel.

It was moments like these that proved to Clay just how wrong he had been in doubting that Jax was the right man for his daughter. The young man's track record with women alone had been enough to convince Clay that Jolene was setting herself up for heartbreak by setting her sights on her "stepbrother". Although they had suffered a few bumps and bruises along the way to happily-ever-after, Clay knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that his little girl had a good old man in Jax Teller and today Clay would need her daughter's husband to put whatever skills he had perfected on Jolene to good use. Jax's track record for pulling his old lady off the ledge was better than anyone else's, including her beloved Uncle Elvis.

The door swung open to reveal Neeta and the warm smile on the face of his former housekeeper forced a genuine grin out of Clay. "Hey there!" She greeted. "You've had everyone beating every bush in this town looking for you." Neeta opened the door wide for Clay to enter. "You alright? You look a little beat."

"I am, actually." Clay roughly ran a hand over his face. He could do with a shot of whiskey. "Where is everybody?"

"Downstairs in the family room with Bobby Elvis. Your old lady's here, too."

"Where else would she be?" Clay asked rhetorically.

"Well, go on down. I'll get you something cold to drink." Neeta offered.

"Unless that something's 80-proof, I think it's better if you come with. Jolene's gonna need her whole family on deck and I only want to say this once."

Raising her eyebrow, Neeta followed him towards the stairway leading downstairs to the family room.

* * *

Dressed casually in a pair of ratty shorts and a tank top, Jolene looked as if she hadn't left the house all day. With her hair in a ponytail, she pushed loose tendrils away from her face as her head rested on her old man's powerful chest, Jax's arm pulling her protectively against his side. He hadn't seen his old lady in this near catatonic state since TJ had been born suffering from the family flaw. Their youngest had to endure open heart surgery and several months of rehab before he was allowed to go home, all of which had dredged up some awful memories for Jolene about Abel. The closest she had come to falling into this type of funk once again had been after Donna had been killed. As he had learned from experience, Jax just let her be while being as physically close to her as Jolene would allow him to be.

Gemma's back-and-forth pacing was making Jax anxious and he was about to bark at his mother to sit down when she turned to him, the fear and worry clearly etched on her face. As focused as he was on his old lady, Jax had to remember that she wasn't the only one hurting.

"Where the hell could he be?" Gemma asked apprehensively.

"I'm right here, Gem." Clay replied, suddenly finding his arms full of a pissed off old lady.

"Asshole!" She scolded as she hugged him tight. "Where the fuck did you run off to? You better not have gone where I think you went." Her dark eyes glittered at him.

"Sorry babe, can't tell you I didn't 'cause I did."

Jolene stiffened in her old man's embrace. "What?!" She said in a shocked tone. "Why?!"

Clay walked over and sat down in the loveseat and pulled his old lady down with him. "Somebody had to, baby girl and I decided that somebody should be me."

"I thought we were going to keep a low profile on this shit?" Jax asked calmly.

" _You_ said that shit," Clay pointed a ringed index finger at his son-in-law. "Not me. You may be the President of this charter, but I'm still the head of MY family and I was baby girl's father long before you were her old man."

"Your _baby girl's_ my woman, making this MY family and I sure as shit get a say in dealing with what affects my family directly." Jax retorted angrily.

"You get to say whatever the fuck you want. Still doesn't mean you get to dictate how I deal with this shit!"

Noting the sudden ire in Jax's blue eyes, Jolene quickly jumped in. "Dad! Please stop." She pleaded with her father. "Don't let this twist our family up, turning us against each other. The egg donor's the enemy, not _my_ husband and the father of _your_ grandchildren."

 _Baby girl's right_ , Clay rubbed his face again with both hands. _One meeting with that woman and I'm already twisted up_.

"You might want to take a cue from _my_ old lady." Jax said a little testily. "We're all on the same side here."

"I get it, alright? I'm sorry." Clay rubbed his forehead.

Deciding to bring the focus back to the issue at hand, Bobby chimed in, "So what Intel did you bring back?"

"Yeah. What the hell does that bitch want?" Gemma asked. _She better not be here to fuck with Jolene's head. Those grandbabies are mine_ , she thought angrily.

Clay sighed as he met his daughter's eyes. "She's here for Fawn, to help her get her business off the ground. She accepts that she's persona non grata with us and has no intention of approaching you, baby girl or anyone else associated with you, sweetheart."

"So Fawn had nothing to do with this?" Bobby asked. "She had no clue who this woman was?"

"Ope made that clear last night at Church." Jax replied.

"Yeah right. Poor bastard's blinded by pussy." Gemma said grimly.

Jax practically glared at his mother. "The 'poor bastard' is my VP and I trust my brother's judgment."

"Me, too." Clay conceded. "Fawn's an innocent in this. She was blindsided by her revelation as much as we were by Tina's sudden reappearance."

Jolene's head whipped up and she exchanged an uneasy look with Gemma, the fact that Clay had referred to the egg donor by her new name not lost on either woman.

"That's a relief." Bobby said gratefully, leaning forward to pour a shot of Jack from the bottle sitting on the coffee table. "I didn't want to believe that sweet girl was capable of pulling the wool over our eyes like that."

"She may have been an unknowing accomplice," Gemma started. "But now that she knows the truth, Fawn can't be wiling to associate with that gash—for the sake of her business or not."

"Don't go making any bets yet because you would be wrong." Clay replied. "Little girl came at me like a mama bear protecting her young."

"What the hell?!" Jolene reacted heatedly.

"I said _protect_ her, baby girl, not defend her. Apparently, before I got there, Tina had just finished dropping some knowledge on her. Fawn is not a stupid woman, but she is loyal to her family and she considers Tina family. Just like she worked shit out with Tig, she believes she can work things out with Tina and won't give up on her." Clay explained. "The fact is—and I can't even believe I'm about to say this shit—Tina might deserve that second chance from Fawn because the woman I met today is not the same woman I knew years ago."

"Daddy!" Jolene whispered angrily as everyone around her—except Jax and Neeta—made their displeasure known.

Looking into her sad, hurt eyes, Clay directed what he had to say directly to his daughter and no one else. "Jolene," He started sternly. "There will _never_ be forgiveness in this old heart of mine for what she did to you. Do you understand me?"

Jolene nodded, quickly dashing away unbidden tears from her cheeks.

"But I can not sit here without acknowledging that she's a changed woman. She told me a lot of shit I didn't know before."

"Changed woman, my ass! Seasons change, people don't!" Gemma said indignantly. "Clarence Morrow, I can't believe you would fall for that dog-and-pony show!"

"I didn't, alright?" He nearly bellowed at his wife. "But pictures don't fuckin' lie, Gem." Reaching behind him, Clay pulled from the waistband of his jeans a large brown envelope.

"What the hell is that?" Jax asked, his brow furrowed.

Clay opened it and withdrew a small bound book. "It's a photo album. Tina made it during her rehab in case she ever got the chance to give it to me."

Jolene sat stone-faced as Jax reached over to take the book Clay offered to him. Gemma felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. _That's not just any ol' plain photo album_ , Gemma thought bitterly.

"Shit." Jax said under his breath, shocked to see a photo on the cover of apparently a young Tina lovingly holding an infant Jolene in her arms. _If I didn't know better, I would have sworn it was Jolene holding Maddy._

Clay was moved by the Jax's suddenly red-rimmed and moist eyes, guessing he probably had the same reaction when Tina handed the photos to him earlier.

The computer-generated album wasn't extensive, but had obviously taken some time to assemble. It held about a dozen or so pictures, most of them of Jolene from infancy to about three years old. With his mother and Bobby quickly hurrying over to stand behind Jax, he took his time flipping through the pictures. No one spoke as they saw picture after picture of a seemingly happy and clean baby. Only Jolene, also completely silent, refused to look at the photos.

"This doesn't prove shit." Gemma retorted, trying to keep the raw emotion out of her voice. She couldn't help but feel her heart being tugged as she saw a happy baby lying in the crook of Valentina's arm as she sat among a group of skanky-looking women.

"It shows that she wasn't always a shitty mother to her daughter." Clay said calmly. "She also gave me this, baby girl."

Pulling out another item from the envelope, Jolene's eyes widened as she recognized it. "That's _my_ photo album, the one I took with me to Seattle." Reaching out, she took it from her father. "I left it behind with all of my shit when I came back home. I never got any of it back." She said as she opened it to reveal all of the pictures of her SAMCRO family that she had thought were lost forever.

"She kept it." Her father replied. "She had a lot of time to reflect during rehab and said that it helped her get to know you a little. It eased her conscience a bit to see that you were happy and had people who loved you."

"I find that hard to believe." Jolene said quietly, not taking her eyes off the album sitting in her lap.

"Yeah, I know. I did, too." Clay agreed. "Until she said that coming here had given her the chance to thank me for beating the shit out of her. Apparently, the beating came on the heels of another one of her druggie pals O.D.'ing and she said it was the wake up call she needed to clean herself up. She's been clean ever since."

Jolene let out a bitter chuckle. "She want a medal? Or does she expect me to welcome her into my life with open and loving arms? She has a better chance of winning a goddamn medal because that shit is so not gonna happen."

"No, she knows better than to expect anything from you. She just wants to stay in Charming long enough to help Fawn out and then she's going back to Seattle. She promised not to contact you or the kids—"

"Her ass needs to go! Like now!" Gemma called out in agitation.

Bobby wrapped his arm around her trembling shoulders. "I agree, sweetheart. I don't want this woman around anymore than you do, but Fawn needs her now." He reasoned.

"I don't give a shit!" Gemma yelled at Bobby. "Fawn wants to make a life here in Charming then she needs to show her loyalty to her SAMCRO family, not some would-be reformed junky whore who used her to get close to Jolene and her children! My fuckin' grandchildren!"

Jolene let her head fall into her hands as a heated argument broke out between Gemma and Bobby. Jax was about to tell everyone not living under his roof to get the fuck out when a loud thump silenced everyone in the room. With the entire room turning to look as one, they saw Maddy Teller splayed out on her behind in the open doorway. With her pale face a mask of fear after getting caught, she realized that gathering Intel was much harder than she had thought.

* * *

"Maddy, what are you doing down here?" Jolene tried to remain calm as Maddy got up from the floor. There was no telling how much the little girl had heard, but with all the yelling going on, Jolene was sure it had been plenty.

"I was thirsty so I came down for a drink of water." She replied, her blue-green eyes doing a quick survey of the room and its occupants.

"The kitchen is _upstairs_ , honey." Neeta, who until this moment had seen fit to remain silent, said quietly. "You didn't have to come down here."

"I did go to the kitchen, but I heard a lot of shouting and wanted to see what was going on." Maddy answered honestly. She may be a child, but she was pretty damn smart. She could tell that the mood had shifted in her usually happy home before today, but whenever she'd pop into a room, her parents, or Neeta, her mom, and Grandma would get quiet before shooing her away. But now, even though the intense conversation going on in the family room had been pretty fast and furious, Maddy had managed to connect a few dots, but she still had a few questions. Looking at her mother, she naively asked, "Do I have another grandma?"

Jolene felt the color drain from her face as she was literally shaking. "Babe, calm down." Jax said soothingly and nearly got pushed off the couch for his trouble.

"Get away from me!" She glared at her old man, her eyes wild. Watching as Jolene pulled herself up from the couch and approached her now cowering daughter, Clay was tempted to yank her back. "You get your ass upstairs right this minute and I swear, Maddox, if I ever catch you eavesdropping again, for the first time in your life I'm going to put you over my knee and I promise you _will_ regret it. Are we clear?" Jolene practically snarled as Maddy's wide eyes widened even further as she saw the controlled fury coiled around her mother.

Maddy was sure she was witnessing the bat-shit crazy side of her mother she had heard so many stories about. It was one thing to hear about it as those stories made her laugh. Now, for the first time ever, she was terrified of her mother.

Maddy nodded soberly with unshed tears in her eyes as she backed up towards the entrance of the family room. Quickly turning tail, she beat a hasty retreat as the soft footfalls of her bare feet pounded up the stairs.

Jolene was reeling. "Oh my God!" She felt utterly breathless. She had suffered a moment of déjà vu, only instead of Maddy, she was the one cowering in front of her mother, just waiting for the slap that would knock her off her feet. "Oh my God!" She said again, completely immobilized. Feeling the strong arms of her old man fold around her, his face buried in her hair as he tried to comfort her, she started shaking violently. "Do you see what the gash has started?" She hissed.

"Darlin'—"

"Don't try to placate me, Jax!" Jolene threw her arms up, breaking loose of Jax's hold, spinning around to face him. "I was this close," She used the thumb and index finger of her trembling hand to illustrate about an inch. "To striking my own child! And she knew it, too! For the first time in her life, my baby was looking at me and shaking with fear." Jolene suddenly backed away as Jax went to reach for her again. "No! I have to go upstairs and somehow make things right again between Maddy and me." Looking past Jax, Jolene addressed the rest of her family. "The subject of Valentina is dead in this house. However, I am not so unreasonable as to not realize that the whole FUCKIN' world doesn't revolve around me. If the egg donor wants to stick around to help Fawn, so be it. But as my old man," She turned to Jax. "If Valentina starts getting other ideas in her head, I expect you to do whatever is necessary to keep her away from me and our children!" Jolene demanded before stomping up the stairs.


	21. It's Just a Matter of Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Fawn was Tig Trager's daughter through and through. Like her father, she wasn't afraid of confrontation. Unlike her father, though, she didn't seek it out. She did, however, suffer from perpetual diarrhea of the mouth, so confrontation usually played a part of her day in one form or another.

With "Calm the fuck down" apparently not a part of the Trager family lexicon, Fawn wasn't the type to shy away from confrontation either. Although she would never consider biting someone's ear off when confronted by an adverse situation, Fawn usually chose to deal with whatever shit storm decided to come her way head-on, even if the consequences ended up biting her in the ass. That part of her personality was completely at odds with what was expected of her regarding the whole Tina situation.

After Clay Morrow had vacated the premises, leaving Tina alive, but emotionally beaten after his verbal assault, Fawn had managed to convince her friend to stay put in Charming until they could figure out their next move. Instead of taking her home, Opie—with a couple of well-placed kisses in the crook of her neck and some ass-groping—had managed to convince her to leave her car behind and ride back with him to his dorm. Being in desperate need of some good and proper loving, Fawn was already sitting on his bike before he made it down the walkway.

Once ensconced in the privacy of Opie's room at the Clubhouse, however, Redwood had nearly blown her craving for some dirty biker nookie by suddenly going all caveman on her ass. And not in the good way either.

After getting Tina's side of the story, Fawn's guilt over her role in bringing her to Charming in the first place was somewhat alleviated. Her intention had never been to hurt Jolene and she wanted the young woman to know that. They were going on almost two days without speaking and Fawn felt it was now the time to reach out to Jolene and work things out between them. Unfortunately, her ill-timed announcement of her plans to talk to Jolene and her insistence of going ahead with her plans even after Opie had told her it was a bad idea had forced him to throw out the "Club Business" card.

Confused by how any of this was Club-related, Opie broke it down for Fawn in the simplest way possible: Mind your own business.

As Fawn sat in stunned silence on the edge of his unmade bed, she slowly returned to her senses as she realized that Opie had resumed the task at hand, namely getting her naked.

"Uh," Fawn pushed his hands away and started buttoning up. "I don't think so."

Now it was Opie's turn to be surprised as Fawn went on a hunt around the room for her hastily discarded ankle boots. Standing in the middle of the room half-naked and fully erect in his jeans, Opie face-palmed himself.

"Shit, baby. That didn't come out right at all." He said.

"You think?" Fawn retorted sarcastically as she pulled the caddy-cornered dresser away from the wall to retrieve her missing boot.

"No, seriously, Fawn," Opie approached her. Grabbing the boots out of her hands, he tossed them on the floor next to the bed before pulling her into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Opie was unable to stifle a groan as Fawn first rubbed, then grabbed a handful of manhood currently straining the crotch of his black denim. "It must be the lack of oxygen making its way to your brain."

Opie laughed, the sound a deep and sexy rumble, as he bent his head to nibble at the space between her ear and collarbone. "You gonna help me out with that? Get my circulation pumping again?"

Fawn cut loose with a girlish giggle. "No way, asshole!" She pushed him away. "If you're taking back this mind-your-own-business shit—which, for the record, are words that I should NEVER hear coming from your mouth again, Outlaw—then you need to explain to me what the big deal is about me wanting to talk to Jolene now." Fawn insisted.

"Babe, I understand where you're coming from," Opie started, running his hand through his loose shoulder-length hair. "You wanna clear the air with Jo and, in your mind, the sooner the better—"

"Exactly, Ope. I need to know where I stand with Jolene because she sets the standard that determines how I'm treated in this Clubhouse." Fawn explained earnestly. "Don't think I didn't notice that every single patch hanging out in the Main Room tonight suddenly became engrossed in picking the dirt out from under their fingernails just so they wouldn't have to look at me when I walked in. I need to know where I stand with the SAMCRO Queen because if I'm not welcomed here, if I'm the _enemy_ , there's no point in me setting foot in the Clubhouse again."

"Fawn, baby," Opie pulled her into his arms again. "You're over-thinking this shit. I've known Jolene since we were kids and I'm telling you, poking a stick at an angry mama bear is not gonna help you in any way. All the shit she's managed to compartmentalize for so many years has hit her sideways. She needs time to make sense of all the noise in her head. Once she's had the chance to think things through, she's gonna realize that none of this is your fault and she'll make the first move. Trust me, there's no forcing Jolene's hand on any issue, especially when she feels she's in the right, but she's big enough to admit when she's wrong, too." Opie cupped Fawn's face, his fingers buried in her silken hair. "And with all due respect to old ladies, _none_ of them run shit in this Clubhouse. I love Jo like a sister, Gemma like a mother, but SAMCRO is a brotherhood and I'm VP. Anyone makes you feel unwelcomed in _my_ Clubhouse—old lady, croweater, hang-around, _another_ brother—you tell me and I'll handle shit."

Opie dipped his head and caught her sweet lips in a tender kiss. Pulling away slightly, Fawn ran her fingers through his beard lightly, her vivid blue eyes wide and round as they engaged his. "I just want things to go back to the way they were, Redwood. For a minute there, life was _so_ good." She almost whispered.

"It still is. We're still good, right? That mind-your-own-business was a brain fart on my part, babe." He teased as he nipped at her lips. "You and Tig are better than ever and I know for sure he's got your back on this. Just like I do. And as soon as the dust settles, everyone else will fall in line, I promise."

"You promise?" Fawn repeated, doubt clearly evident in her voice.

"Yeah, I do." Opie replied emphatically.

"So there's no way the Club can make you reconsider your choice of pussy?" Fawn asked, her brow furrowed as she suddenly became interested in fingering the Reaper on his chest.

"What?! Where the hell did that come from?" Opie gently forced her chin up.

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Clay. He told Tina that not only should the MC keep me out of the Clubhouse, but that maybe you needed to reconsider your taste in pussy. Hearing that shit hurt, Ope. And I thought he liked me too, but apparently, I was just feeding his caffeine and pound cake addiction."

Opie shook his head. "That's bullshit, babe. You are NOT pussy. Pussy has never made me as happy as you have these past couple of months. _You're my girl_. You know that, right?" He asked and Fawn nodded. "I'm gonna have a talk with Clay."

Now Fawn was shaking her head violently. "No, Ope, you can't, please. He'll know Tina told me and she's got enough working against her. You have to promise that whatever you and I discuss, especially about Tina, doesn't leave this room. Please."

"Okay, Big Red," Opie agreed, albeit reluctantly. "I promise." Just then, his prepay started ringing in the front pocket of his jeans. Pulling it out with a curse, Opie's eyes widened as he saw the caller i.d. "Shit, I have to take this. It's Jax."

Fawn felt her heart drop to her feet as Opie stepped away to take the call.

* * *

After a long, exhaustive night of deep conversation and hot and sweaty love making, Fawn found herself wide awake, her mind refusing to shut down for some much needed sleep long after Opie had passed out. Lying on her side with her right hand tucked under the pillow supporting her head, Fawn had been watching Opie sleep since before the party in the Main Room had wound down and the sun had begun to rise.

Opie was fast asleep on his back, his left forearm draped over his eyes. Biting her lip, Fawn let her eyes roam over the fine specimen of man she was sharing a bed with. His muscled chest, as solid as a brick wall, rose and fell gently with his deep, even breaths. He had kicked his legs free from the confines of the covers and the thin summer blanket barely covered his impressive package, leaving the muscles on his hips that formed a deep "V" exposed.

 _Even in a deep slumber he's a total bad ass and sexy as hell_ , Fawn smiled to herself. _He's all man and he's all mine_.

 _But for how long?_ Inner-Fawn chimed in, but Fawn refused to let her mind wander to the bad place Jax's phone call last night had taken her to.

Although on the surface the news Jax had shared was good, reading between the lines, Fawn got the sense that she was once again on the outside looking in as far as Jolene Teller was concerned. According to Jax, if Tina chose to stay in Charming to help Fawn with the salon that was her business. She could rest assured that no one would interfere or make her stay unpleasant. All Tina had to do was agree to steer clear of Jolene and her family as the young woman had no interest in seeing or speaking to her birth mother ever again. Violate the agreement once and Jolene would run her ass out of Charming herself.

As far as Opie was concerned, that was indeed fantastic news, but to Fawn the definition of "her family" was a little murky. Did that mean Jolene's immediate family, or did that extend to include SAMCRO as well? And if it did, where did that put Opie and his kids? What hit Fawn like a punch in the gut was the implication that, by associating with Tina, she herself was no longer a part of the extended SAMCRO family.

Opie had done his part to convince her she was reading too much into it and that no one outside of their relationship had a say in it. Fawn had been able to set aside her anxieties while she had been wrapped in his arms as he made love to her. But once their passion for each other had been quenched and their ardor had cooled as fatigue set in, her worries came rushing back and had kept Fawn awake for the rest of the night.

Looking on the bright side, at least Tina wouldn't be bullied out of town. If SAMCRO chose to shut her out because of her association with Tina, Fawn had to ask herself why she would want to be a part of their clique anyway. After all, it was obvious they were too busy picking splinters out of everyone else's eyes before yanking the giant wooden beam out of their own. Fawn didn't have time for petty bullshit or hypocrisy. She had a business to get off the ground and a dear friend to get unpacked and settled in.

Having managed to ease her way out of Opie's bed, Fawn tip-toed her way to the bathroom to take a quick shower. It was early, barely an hour past dawn, but even though exhausted from not sleeping, Fawn was eager to get her day started. The plan was to sneak out of the Clubhouse and head home to change into something appropriate for moving boxes and unpacking before showing up bright and early on Tina's doorstep. Considering that Ope usually slept with one eye open, however, she shouldn't have been startled when she quietly opened the bathroom door and found her man wide awake and sitting at the foot of the bed waiting for her.

"Hey." She smiled, wrapped in a large pale green bath towel with her hair in a top knot.

"Hey yourself," Opie replied as the big man held his long arms out for her. Without another word, Fawn walked into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Why are you up so fuckin' early?" He asked, pulling at her towel until it fell to the floor. Gently squeezing her breasts together, Opie nuzzled his face in the valley they created. With her hands balled up in his hair, Fawn let out a soft moan as his tongue lapped at one of her nipples before taking it into his mouth, sucking on it until it felt so good it hurt.

"Shit, that's a good question." Fawn replied, a little breathless and slightly weak-kneed, causing Opie to chuckle. Sweeping aside his mop of reddish brown bed head, Fawn pulled his chin up. Bringing her lips to his, they kissed each other ardently as Opie cupped her ass and pulled her closer.

"Mmmm," Opie groaned as he forced himself to break their kiss. "So tell me, why did I wake up to find my bed half empty?"

"I'm sorry. I tried not to wake you up, but now that Tina's been _cleared_ to stay in Charming, I wanted to get over there and get her unpacked before she changes her mind and hightails it out of town. I figured I'd leave you to enjoy the rest of your Sunday in peace."

"Well, you figured wrong." Opie advised calmly. The big biker fell back onto the bed, lifting Fawn off her feet and rolling her onto her back as she let out a high-pitched squeal. "See, first, you need to help me take care of this morning wood."

"Oh really?" She giggled, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as she wriggled her hips against his, forcing a sexy growl out of Opie. "And then what?"

"Then we'll do our part for water conservation by taking a shower together." His green eyes danced wickedly over hers as he nudged her legs apart with his knee before grinding his hips into hers.

"But I already took a shower." Fawn faux-argued.

 _Hey, I've got no problem getting wet again,_ inner-Fawn argued.

"Trust me, babe. When I'm done with you, you're gonna want another shower." Opie promised lecherously. "And after, we'll head back to your place and grab some breakfast before you change so we can go help Tina unpack." He wanted to smile as he saw her bottom lip tremble slightly. Instead, he sucked it into his mouth before kissing her deeply again.

It was his continued use of 'we' that tugged at her heart. "We, huh?" Grabbing a handful of hair, she pulled him away.

"Ow, woman! Damn! What?" Opie asked with mock-indignation. "Did you really think I was gonna let my girl move a shit load of boxes by herself?"

Fawn had to blink a couple of times to hold back the sudden rush of tears. "Ope, if helping us out is gonna cause a problem between you and Jolene—"

Opie shushed her with another deep kiss. "Then that's between me and Jolene, okay? Besides, I know Jo. She may be in a bad place right now, but she won't hold it against me if I help my woman out."

Fawn suddenly arched her back, letting out a soft whimper, as Opie entered her slowly. With his elbows on the bed on either side of her head, he buried his hands in her flaming hair. Releasing it from its top knot, Opie kissed and sucked from her neck to her jawline before enveloping her mouth, their tongues dancing against each other as Opie slowly picked up speed.

Opie's feelings for Fawn were strong and intense and raw. He didn't fall in love easily, but once he did, he was all in. If he was honest with himself, Opie had known he was in love with Fawn before she had tried kicking his ass to the curb on Friday. In that moment, however, the fear of losing her had been so great that he had to admit to himself that he loved her and would plow through anyone or anything to protect her.

Accepting that he loved Fawn, Opie no longer felt overwhelmed by the guilt he had been feeling over being truly happy with a woman that wasn't his late wife. He loved Donna and always would, but the two women could not be further apart in their differences and he knew the love he felt for Fawn was slightly different. Not based on the uncertainty of young love—he had lost count of the many times he and Donna had broken up before finally settling down—but on the maturity and level-headedness he and Fawn have achieved by overcoming their different set of obstacles in life.

As much as Opie wanted to tell Fawn he loved her, he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew what place, if any, he held in her heart.

While Fawn had openly shared the details about her troubled youth in Oregon and the new life she had made for herself in Seattle, she had not been overly forthcoming about her love life. By Big Red's own admission, Tina knew Fawn better than anyone. Helping Fawn's new partner settle in would give him the opportunity to not just find out more about Tina, but maybe he could gain some insight about his girl. Specifically, there had to be a reason why a beautiful, vibrant, and sexually giving and loving woman would deliberately take herself off the relationship market for over a year, and Opie wanted to know what that was.

_I may be her first lover since her self-imposed celibacy ended, but I intend to be the last one, too._

* * *

The bright morning sunshine was spilling through the windows of her temporary home. Even during the summer, this wasn't something Tina was used to living in Seattle, where there were more reported sightings of Big Foot than the number of times the sun actually made an appearance.

Tina twisted a couple of rings on her fingers as she paced back and forth. It was a nervous habit she had developed since switching to decaf after her last physical and a habit that had become more aggressive since arriving in Charming. With the damage her past drug use had done to her body, namely her heart, her doctor believed she could do without the stimulant that was caffeine. That was easy for him to say, of course, because he probably never had the prospect of a small army of angry bikers gunning for him.

Reliving the moment she had come face-to-face with her daughter for the first time in many years, Tina lamented that the shock and anger she had seen play over Jolene's pretty face physically hurt her heart more than caffeine ever could.

Heading to the kitchen to pour herself a dreadful cup of decaf, Tina sat down at the kitchen table to punish herself again with the last memory she had of a teenage Jolene. It had been her final horrible act as a mother and Tina was sure it was just one of the many reasons Jolene hated her. As much as she wanted that not to be the case, Tina couldn't blame her daughter because she hated herself too. Tina winced as in her mind's eye she could see herself banging on the small bedroom door where Jolene had slept, screeching like a maniac and calling the 17-year old every vile name she could think of as she threatened to kill her.

 _Threatening to kill my own flesh and blood to protect a piece of shit pimp I hated with a passion_ , Tina thought disgustedly. But if she were honest with herself, Tina had loved Pretty Ricky as much as she had hated him, if only for the drugs he provided. With him around, there always seemed to an endless supply of what she needed to help her forget she was living a wasted life.

Even though Clay had looked at her as if he hadn't believed her when she told him, Tina was indeed indebted to him for saving her life. He had beaten her within an inch of her life before forcing her to sign the papers giving him full custody of their daughter. By what little he had said regarding the matter, Clay had made it abundantly clear that Ricky was dead, his way of avenging the near-rape his baby girl. He also made it clear that the only reason he was leaving her alive was in case family court decided to contact her about her "sudden" change of heart. He trusted that she would corroborate his version of the agreement they had made regarding custody, or he would send the same guy that had sent Ricky on a permanent vacation to deal with her.

Little did Clay know that, with Ricky dead, he had set her free from the life she had seen no escape from. It had taken her a while to recover from the beating, but once she had, Tina finally sought the help she needed.

Tina's guilt for what had nearly happened to Jolene and her part in it had eaten away at her for years. For a long time, she believed that she had passed down her own bad and corrupted genes to her daughter. That in spite of the loving upbringing Jolene had in her father's care, turning out just like her _egg donor_ had been inevitable.

_If I ever catch up with the skank Fed that fed me that line of bullshit so many years ago, I'll fuckin' rip her heart out._

Angrily musing over all the awful lies fed to her by the ATF about Jolene and her life, Tina's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the distinctive roar of a Harley approaching the house. Stumbling to her feet, Tina trembled a little at the thought that Clay had come to his senses and was here to finish her off without witnesses.

Running to the living room, Tina let out a sigh of relief as she peered out the window and saw Fawn. And she wasn't alone. Tina smiled suddenly as she watched Opie Winston get off his ride, taking a helmet from Fawn, and literally towering over her in her flats. With a raised eyebrow, Tina chuckled as the SAMCRO VP wrapped his arms around Fawn, his bear paw hands firmly clutching her ass and pulling her up against his hard body as he mauled her mouth with his own.

But it wasn't the soft-core porn she was witnessing that had Tina's heart melting with happiness for Fawn. It was seeing the outlaw biker affectionately nuzzle the young woman's throat and then her nose, before giving Fawn a gentle kiss on the forehead that put Opie in the win-win column for Tina. The affection he displayed was far more loving and telling than his attack on her ass and mouth.

"That boy's in love." Tina said to no one in particular as she bit her thumbnail. She knew Fawn as if she truly were her own daughter and this was usually the point in any new relationship where Fawn bailed.

_Before I leave Charming, I have to do my part to make sure that Fawn doesn't send this one packing._

* * *

Stripped down to a plain white tee, Opie made quick work of moving the heaviest boxes into the house as Fawn transported several travel trunks on wheels containing just a small fraction of Tina's wardrobe.

Fawn wasn't kidding when she warned him that Tina was not a light packer. Along with her clothes and cosmetics, she had brought along many of her high-end kitchen appliances as well as a few of her favorite pieces of furniture in order to make the furnished rental feel more like a home. Once in California, Tina had made a side trip to Stockton to pick up the order she had placed earlier in the week of supplies for the _Take 5 Body Beautiful_ salon. Opie playfully teased Fawn that he had technically offered to move Tina in, but that offer did not include unpacking, which he estimated they would be doing at least until Labor Day.

Accidentally bumping into Tina after dropping off another box on the floor of the master bedroom, Opie took a step back and looked at her from head to toe.

"Wow," Opie smiled as he shook his head. "I still can't get over how weird it is looking at you, Tina."

"Ope! Don't be rude." Fawn yelped as she dropped a box on the bed.

"Nah, I'm just being honest, babe. It's kinda strange looking at a woman who looks like Jolene's older sister. I just wish Jax were here so he could see for himself what his woman's gonna look like in about 20 years. My brother's a lucky bastard." Opie grinned and threw a wink at Tina.

In spite of the fact that she was anything but a naïve virgin, Tina found herself blushing.

"See what you did?" Fawn playfully shooed him from the room. "Stop gawking at her like that and go move the boxes that are left in the trailer into the kitchen." She ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Opie mock-saluted, waiting until Fawn turned around so he could give her denim-clad ass a resounding whack. "Sorry, babe. It was calling my name." He laughed, running out of the room to barely dodge a shoe horn aimed at his head.

"Fawn," Tina chided. "Don't be so rough with him."

"Eh, he's a biker. He can take it." Fawn opened the box she had just brought in to look inside. "Oh, goody! Shoes!"

"I don't know why you're so excited. You don't even wear a size 8." Tina snarked.

"And it's a damn shame too," Fawn breathed as she held up a pair of Manolo Blahnik black leather pointed pumps with an ankle chain. "These are too cute."

"Forget the shoes," Tina grabbed them and threw them back into the box. "Now that I've seen you two together, let's dish."

"About what?" Fawn ignored Tina and pulled out another pair of kick ass shoes to look at. "Me and Ope?"

Tina nodded enthusiastically. "That biker boy is sweet on you!"

Fawn smirked, attempting to wedge her size 10 foot into a lizard-print pump. " _Boy_ hardly describes Redwood."

"Nevertheless," Tina sat down on the edge of her bed. "He's in love with you. I can tell."

"What?!" Fawn gave up on the pump and picked up a Louboutin platform. "What you're seeing is one ridiculously happy man after being treated to a fan-fuckin'-tastic blow job in the shower before coming over here."

Tina shook her head. "You're doing it again."

Frustrated with the feet she had obviously inherited from her father, Fawn gave up on the shoes to turn her attention to Tina. "You're nuts." She said simply, moving the box of shoes to the closet in order to unpack them.

"But you know I'm right." Tina replied, watching her friend carefully place the shoes on the specially-made shoe racks in the walk-in closet of the master bedroom. "So come on, before he comes back, tell me that you're in love with him too."

Dropping the shoes she was holding on the floor of the closet, Fawn turned to face Tina. "I'm happy. Can we just leave it at that?"

"So, you're not in love?" Tina wheedled.

Exasperated, Fawn put a hand on her cocked hip. "I'm. Happy. Please. Stop."

"Ohhhh," Tina nodded as if a light bulb had just gone off in her head. "You're still afraid to commit."

Suddenly flustered, Fawn was struggling to get her words of righteous indignation out when the sound of a bike pulling into the driveway travelled through the open front door and up the hallway to the bedroom.

"The one friendly biker I know is already here." Tina said, slightly alarmed. "Who on Earth is that?"

Both thankful for and nervous about the unexpected reprieve, Fawn shook her head. "There's only one way to find out."

* * *

"Hey, brother." Tig said affably as he got off his ride.

"Hey," Opie replied as he met Tig with the standard bro-hug. "I didn't expect to see you over here, man."

"I stopped by the house looking for Fawnzy and came up empty. Figured I'd swing by to see if she was here and if she needed any help." The SAA pulled out a pack of smokes and offered one to Opie, who accepted, before lighting up. "How's shit going on in there?"

"A'ight." Opie replied as he released a large plume of blue smoke. "So I take it you heard Tina's staying?"

"Yeah, heard it from Bobby. Also heard Doll Face ain't too happy, but she's a classy broad and won't complicate things for Fawnzy. I really appreciate that." Tig explained. "I know how close you, Jax, and his old lady are, so I really appreciate you being here for my girl too. She needs all the help she's not too stubborn to accept."

"Yeah, well. I'd like to see her try and chase me away." Opie said, bringing his cigarette to his lips. _It didn't work the first time._

Tig shook his head, his nose scrunched up in distaste. "I caught an earful from Gemma, too. That, plus all the shit I heard about this gash back in the day makes me nervous for Fawnzy."

"That was back in the day, Tig." Opie reassured him. "She doesn't seem to be a gash now."

Tig exhaled a trail of smoke as he eyed Opie thoughtfully. Jax had blind faith in his VP's opinions, so if Opie didn't have a problem with Tina, maybe she wasn't half bad.

 _Or maybe Fawnzy's just leading him around by the dick and he can't think too straight_ , Tig smirked to himself.

"Then what is she like, man?"

"See for yourself." Opie replied, nodding towards the house.

And Tig Trager turned around in time to get his first look his daughter's best friend.

* * *

Fawn was smiling in relief as she walked through the wide-open front door to see the all too familiar patch talking to Opie.

"Well, shit," Tina breathed. "That's your father, isn't it?"

Fawn grinned. "That's my old man," She said a little boastfully. "Let me introduce you."

The two women made a pretty picture as they walked towards the two bikers. Tig, however, ignored his daughter as his fierce blue eyes centered on the woman at her side.

 _What the fuck?_ Tig marveled to himself over the fact that the woman walking towards him was almost a dead ringer for Jax's old lady. _It's Doll Face the Sequel._ Removing his sun glasses, Tig shoved them into the pocket of his kutte so he could get a better look. _The bitch is fuckin' hot_.

Wearing a pair of tight black leggings that stopped at a pair of firm and shapely calves, Tig almost salivated at the nice-sized rack fitted into a white tank top with a deeply rounded neckline, exposing undeniably firm and perky breasts. _Shit, I'm a sucker for big tits_ , he nearly groaned out loud, feeling a slight twitch in his pants. With her heart-shaped face, dark hair and green eyes, Tina was obviously the mature version of her hot-as-fuck daughter.

"Hey, Dad." Fawn said enthusiastically. Tig wasn't much for public displays of affection, so she snaked her arm around his waist and grinned as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Hey, Fawnzy." He greeted, his eyes fixated on Tina. "I guess this must be your friend."

"Yep, this is Tina Giamatti. Tina, my jarhead of a father, Tig."

Tig extended a powerful hand to take Tina's perfectly manicured one in a possessive grip.

Tina had seen photos of Fawn's father before, so thanks to his dark curly hair and tall, lean frame, she had recognized him right away. Photos, however, simply hadn't done him justice.

In the flesh, Tig was a rough-looking hardcore biker. Outfitted completely in black with multiple heavy silver rings on his fingers, she wouldn't want to come across him in a dark alley, but he was still sexy as hell. Although she knew he was about 57, Tina was hard pressed to believe it. Not only did he carry himself with the cocky confidence of a much younger man, Tina could tell that he kept himself in shape. And those eyes, so much like his daughter's, had an untamed quality to them that spoke volumes. He was dangerous, and not just in the obvious outlaw way. After years of being with just one man, her late husband, Tina could still sense a man's sexual energy and Tig Trager's was the most powerful she had come into contact with in a hell of a long time.

As his large hand gripped hers, Tina felt her heart jump in her chest, which surprised her. After all, she had been around and, even though she was clean and sober, men were still a weakness. She had, however, given up on the bad boy-types once she had changed her life for the better. Seeing the raw admiration and heat reflected in the biker's eyes, Tina swallowed the lump in her throat.

 _There's no harm in flirting, though_.

"It's really nice finally getting the chance to meet you after all this time," Tina said softly. "I've heard so much about you, I feel like we've met before."

"Shit, doll, I'd remember meeting you before," Tig gently squeezed her hand, but didn't let it go. "I've heard a lot about you too, but don't worry. I have no intention of holding any of that shit against ya."

"Dad!"

The SAA shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, just being honest here. Anybody who goes to bat for my kid is okay in my book." Releasing his hold on Fawn, Tig smoothly transitioned his arm around a startled Tina's shoulders as he continued holding her hand in his powerful grip. "It's getting hot out here. Why don't you invite me in for a nice cool drink and tell me about yourself?"

"I can manage that," Tina said, a flirtatious smile spreading across her face. "After all, this is Charming. The name says it all, doesn't it?"

Fawn stood in shock as her father and her best friend headed inside. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I hate to break it to ya, babe, but that was your daddy putting the moves on your friend." Opie drawled with amusement. "You okay with that?"

Fawn looked up at Opie as if he had just lost his mind. "I would think the look of horror on my face speaks for itself, don't you?"

"Well, hold onto that look," Opie wrapped his arm around Fawn's shoulders and pulled her to his side as they headed inside as well. "Because something tells me shit's gonna get seriously twisted in Charming."

* * *

Fawn felt her left eye twitching rapidly as her head bounced back and forth between her friend and her father as if she were watching a tennis match between two equally-matched opponents, both intent on winning.

 _I think I'm having a stroke_ , Fawn gingerly fingered the eye that had suddenly developed a nervous tic.

She wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Tig had stuck around for the rest of the day to help with the unpacking. Even though there had been a heavy dose of flirting going on between Tig and Tina, her father had managed to help them make a big dent in getting Tina organized and settled in.

With only her personal effects left to organize and put away, Tina had extended the small group an invitation for Sunday dinner as a way to thank them for all of their help. Now, after quickly throwing together a simple dinner of turkey Italian sausage and peppers served on top of angel-hair wheat pasta in a butter garlic sauce and thick wedges of homemade garlic bread made with freshly grated Parmesan cheese, the four of them were sitting around the dining room table talking, laughing and eating.

Well, three out of four were talking, laughing and eating. Fawn, the lone dissenter, was too creeped out by the heavy flirting going on between Tig and Tina to do anything more than count the number of times her eye spasmed in the last hour.

Catching her man's eye, Fawn wriggled her eyebrows at the two people sitting across from each other and the obvious sexual tension she could cut with a knife. Opie shrugged his shoulders as if telling Fawn to let it go as she continued to squirm in her seat. Taking pity on her after the rough weekend she's had, Opie decided to break up the sudden love fest that had erupted between the older couple.

_Knowing Tig, he'll get me back for cock-blocking, but Fawn needs a break._

"So when are you starting down at the shop, Tina?" He asked as he twirled some pasta on his fork.

Tina found herself having to pull away from Tig's mesmerizing and sparkling blue gaze to answer. "That's a good question," She started. "I think I'm going in tomorrow, right?"

"That's right," Fawn replied, relieved. "I'm bringing my car over so we can move the supplies you brought for the salon." She said excitedly. "I can't wait for you to see the progress we've made so far."

Tina grinned. "I can't wait to finally see everything and meet everyone, especially Lexie. We really didn't get a chance to talk on my first day here. I'm sure I didn't make a good impression." She said a little wryly.

"Nah, no need to worry about that shit. Lexie's a good bitch," Tig replied. "Even though I do think she's scared to death of me."

"Uh, yeah." Fawn punched her father on the shoulder. "Undressing a woman with your eyes isn't always the best way to set her mind at ease when you meet them for the first time."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Tina said glibly. "It hasn't bothered me at all." She said saucily.

Tig grinned. "See, Tina understands me." The SAA replied, pointing a fork at his daughter. "Sometimes you are too fuckin' uptight. You get that crap from your mother. You need to loosen up a bit."

Opie managed to turn his laughter into several robust coughs as he eyed the mutinous expression on his woman's face. "Big Red's pretty loose," Opie spoke up, looking to score some brownie points with Fawn by making her father squirm. "I can make her bend in ways I didn't think were possible."

Both Fawn and Tina almost spit up the mineral water they had been drinking as Tig inhaled a mouthful of pasta, nearly choking.

* * *

After a productive Monday morning at the salon meeting with Tina, Lexie, and their construction foreman Bill, Fawn was feeling pretty damn good about the progress they were making. Considering all the unexpected expenses and delays due to plumbing and electrical problems, it was safe to say that this was the first time since breaking ground on the renovations that Fawn could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

With Tina now available to oversee the completion of the _Body Beautiful Day Spa_ upstairs, Fawn and Lexie were now free to tie up loose ends before shutting the salon down for business in order to begin the final phase of construction. Demolition of the shop currently known as Gina's Cut-N-Curl would take about ten days. After that, the raw space would be transformed into _Take Five_. If all went according to plan, Fawn was less than four weeks away from seeing her dream come to fruition, none of which would have been possible without Tina's involvement.

After their construction status meeting, the new partners had headed over to Nicky's Diner for their first "power lunch", where they discussed plans for the grand opening and marketing ideas, including the salon's new website. As the three furiously jotted down notes of ideas they were tossing around over grilled chicken salads and iced tea, Fawn found herself breathing a sigh of relief.

Although Lexie hadn't said anything to lead her to believe otherwise, Fawn had been worried that Lexie would regret taking Tina on as a partner after the spectacle that had unexpectedly erupted on Friday. But upon arrival at the salon, Tina did not hesitate to approach Lexie to apologize and to assure her that scene had been a one-off situation, one that she would die before having play out in their place of business. Lexie had been gracious about the apology and had in turn assured Tina that she trusted Fawn's judgment whole-heartedly and had been on pins and needles all weekend, worried that Tina would head back to Seattle.

After witnessing Tina put the screws to their foreman Bill about not tolerating any further delays and hearing her recite from a journal she had been using to catalog ideas for the salon, Lexie knew she had been right to put her complete faith in both Fawn and Tina.

"For the website," Tina started as she pulled a folder out of her designer laptop bag. "I've met with a couple of graphic designers in Seattle last week and I think I've found exactly who we should bring on board to work with your website guy—what's his name again?"

"Juice." Fawn replied as she took a bite of the slice of cherry pie they were sharing for dessert.

Tina furrowed her brow. "I won't ask."

"Good, 'cause I don't know the answer." Fawn replied as Lexie chortled. "You should know he's a member of the Club."

"And he's still willing to work with me on the website?" Tina asked doubtfully.

Fawn nodded. "Trust me, if Juice weren't a member of the MC, he'd be part of the Geek Squad. He lives for this kind of shit. He's still on board."

Tina smiled. "Good. As I was saying, I found a graphic designer to work with Juice to create the salon's logo and design for the advertising. I'm working on an advertising budget, so I need a list of local publications and contact information for their marketing departments. Fawn, I know you want to hire at least two more stylists, but I'm leaving that to your and Lexie's discretion. I have, however, been in contact with every cosmetology school up and down the coast. Recent graduates are eager for the work and, without the experience, much cheaper to hire, so I suggest starting your search there. There are also a number of hair shows coming up. We should pick one within the next six months to attend where you would like to introduce the new salon."

"Oh man, along with overseeing construction of the spa, you have your hands full, Tina." Lexie noted after draining her second cup of coffee. "When do you plan on sleeping?"

Tina inhaled deeply and let out a quick breath of air. "Never. I forgot to mention I'm also working on a plan for grand opening cross-promotions with other local businesses and on developing my personal recipes for body scrubs and moisturizers into a line for the salon."

Listening to the list that would be keeping Tina's plate full, Fawn was in complete awe of her friend. Bringing Tina on had definitely been the right decision. Not only would the money that brought Tina a third of the business keep them afloat while the salon proper was closed, she and Lexie would have been unable to run the administrative side on their own while still running the shop and overseeing their end of the construction. But all work and no fun was totally unlike Tina, so Fawn made a mental note to talk to Lexie about finding ways to show their new partner a good time.

As Tina prattled on and on, Fawn smiled broadly. _Finally, everything's going according to plan_.

But when the past refuses to be forgotten, it's just a matter of time before Fawn's world turns to shit. Again.

* * *

With the salon suddenly overrun by walk-ins, Ellie Winston was being kept busy multi-tasking as she assisted the other stylists. Having started her day at one o'clock, she had missed seeing the new partners and was anxiously waiting for them to return from lunch.

With her father pretty much missing in action, nothing unusual on the weekends since he had hooked up with Fawn, Ellie had spent the past couple of days filled with angst, worried about her Aunt Jo, Fawn, and her father. Kenny, the Prospect fly on the Clubhouse wall, had fed her the details on the soap opera that had suddenly erupted in Charming, engulfing her family.

Ellie had been truly stunned by the news that Fawn's best friend and Aunt Jo's birth mother were one and the same. While she didn't know the details of her aunt's life with her mother before she came to Charming, Ellie knew enough to know that Aunt Jo had no love at all for the woman, and that worried Ellie.

She loved her Aunt Jo and had grown to love and admire Fawn as well. She knew how important loyalty was to SAMCRO, so she hoped that Tina's arrival did not cause a rift not only between Fawn and the Club, but between her Dad and Fawn. Ellie, however, was determined to reserve judgment until she actually met the woman Fawn considered a mentor and surrogate mother.

She had been so busy handing slips of aluminum foil to Mary Ellen as she mulled over her thoughts that the happy chatter and girlish laughter did not quite register with Ellie until she heard Fawn call her name. Turning to greet the three women as they returned from lunch, Ellie felt her jaw literally hit the bottom of her shoe.

Seeing the shocked look on the young woman's face, Fawn took the foil from Ellie and placed it on Mary Ellen's station. Grabbing Ellie by the hand, she led her towards the back and motioned for Tina to follow.

"Elle, I want you to meet my friend, Tina." Fawn started, quirking an eyebrow as Ellie continued to stare at the older woman facing them. "Tina, this is Ellie, Opie's daughter."

"It is so great to finally meet you," Tina said, genuinely happy to meet the young woman that Fawn had helped out of a bad situation and who had actually encouraged a relationship between Fawn and her own father. "Are you alright? Fawn, I think she needs water." Tina suggested afraid that Ellie was about to pass out.

Ellie quickly shook off the shock. "No, no. I'm fine. I'm sorry for staring. It's just that—well, I heard you looked a lot like my aunt. I just wasn't prepared for how much."

"That's fine," Tina laughed. "I've been hearing that quite a lot since I arrived in town. I'm sure—" She suddenly stopped, her own eyes widening in shock as the bell above the salon's front door tinkled merrily announcing another walk-in. "Holy shit!"

Standing face-to-face with her new partner, Fawn noticed Tina's face grow a sickly pale and knew that something was dreadfully wrong. Saying a little prayer in hopes that no one else was here to cause trouble for her friend, Fawn's knees almost buckled as she heard the deep baritone voice that at one time used to melt her bones every time she heard it.

"Baby Girl, you sure are a hard woman to find!"

Now it was Fawn's eyes that tripled in size as she silently screamed at Tina that this could not be happening. She quickly found herself being swept off her feet as a pair of very strong arms cradled her against a powerful chest as she was whirled around and around.

With her eyes finally focusing on a pair of familiar pale blue ones, Fawn wondered where the hell were those notorious California quakes when you needed one.

"Fuck me!" She exclaimed horrified.

"First thing's first, beautiful." Her assailant smirked and Fawn panicked as she saw a set of sinfully full, warm and sensual lips aimed in her direction.

Shaking her head violently, the last thing Fawn could remember thinking was "He was such a fuckin' good kisser" as she failed dodging the mouth that completely smothered hers in a breath-taking kiss.

Ellie's eyes widened in astonishment and then narrowed in anger as she saw her friend struggle in earnest against the onslaught of the admittedly sexy man who had seemingly invaded the salon. Frantically patting the pockets of her hot pink smock, Ellie came up empty.

 _Where the hell is my fuckin' phone_?! _This is an emergency!_


	22. Welcome to Crazy Town

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

In spite of the grey finding its way into his beard, Opie Winston refused to believe that not only was he growing older, but that he was out of touch with young people, his own teenagers in particular. Even though he wasn't quite 38 years old yet and kept himself in good shape both mentally and physically—enough that he could keep his girl, who was almost ten years younger, happy and satisfied—at times Opie did find himself hard pressed to keep up with his two kids.

 _Face it, man. The reality is you_ _are_ _getting old_ , he grinned to himself.

Between his son Kenny, who was working hard on earning his top rocker _and_ nailing everything with two sets of lips and his daughter Ellie, who was constantly on the go preparing for junior year and working at the salon, lately Opie barely managed to catch his kids on the fly.

But if there was only one thing he knew about kids nowadays, he knew there was one accessory that they never left home without and his daughter was no exception. Her phone was her lifeline, which was why he was pulling up in front of Fawn's salon with his daughter's smart phone in the pocket of his kutte.

His original plan had been for Kenny to drop if off like a good little Prospect, but then Opie realized that delivering the phone personally would give him the added benefit of pushing up on his woman again. After the weekend from hell that had taken an emotional toll on her, the SAMCRO VP was looking forward to giving Fawn—and himself—a little pick-me-up.

So it was something of a major fuckin' shock to see through the shop's clear window pane HIS woman already in the midst of a pick-me-up as she was swung around like a rag doll by a tall and brawny stranger. And seeing the man maul a squirming Fawn with his mouth sent SAMCRO's gentle giant into a red rage. Getting off his bike, Opie paid no mind to the fact that he practically threw his helmet into oncoming traffic.

_WHAT THE FUCKIN' FUCK?!_

With an anger he managed to keep under control most of the time, Opie flung the shop's door open with a crash, shattering the glass as he strode inside. Barely registering the high pitched squeals of the other women, including his wide-eyed daughter, Opie barreled towards the dead man walking, who had finally set Fawn down on her feet.

Fawn's eyes widened in sheer panic as Opie didn't bother to ask who the man was. He didn't bother to introduce himself. He didn't bother to say not one fuckin' word. Instead, he allowed his fists to do the talking for him as he used one beefy hand to spin the man around, the other balled into a fist and slamming into the man's face. The impact sent the man flying on his back and sliding across the slick floor, a long spurt of blood exploding out of his nose in a beautiful arc like from an epic scene straight out of a Tarantino flick.

However, the big stranger was surprising agile for his size and quickly used his core strength to kick up his legs, landing on his feet.

"Who the fuck are you, asshole?!" The man shouted as he threw a roundhouse punch that clipped Opie on the chin and sent him staggering back a few steps.

Fawn watched horrified as Tina and Lexie struggled to keep her from joining the fray. "Stop! Stop it, you bloody fuckin' idiots!" She screamed, barely audible over the angry grunts and thrashing about of the two huge and enraged men as they tore each other apart, while several clients ran for a safe haven from which to watch the show.

Opie slammed a ringed fist into the man's gut. "I'm her old man, you piece of shit! Who the fuck are you?!"

"I'm her boyfriend, you idiot!" The man shot back hoarsely as he lashed a foot upwards catching Opie in gut.

 _What the fuck_ , Opie thought dazedly, the knowledge propelling him forward to land a punch on the side of the man's face before clocking him with an uppercut.

With each refusing to back down, the two came together in a blur of fists, arms and legs as they crashed first into one station and then another. Fawn, who was pulling at her hair, watched as the shop underwent a systematic demolition a full six weeks ahead of schedule.

"ENOUGH!" She shouted and, breaking away from her partners, reached for her tried and true weapon of choice. Grabbing the water hose from the shampoo station, Fawn turned the cold water on full blast and aimed the nozzle at the two fighting men.

Suddenly, Opie found himself sputtering for air as he was hit square in the face with a cold stream of water, only given a reprieve when Fawn turned the hose on his opponent as well. The cold water seemed to have the desired effect as both men snapped out of their territorial and animalistic rage.

"Babe! Stop that shit, damn it!" Opie ordered as he tried dodging the spray.

"Yeah, Red! This wasn't exactly the homecoming I had in mind!" The other man yelled.

Seeing that she finally had their full attention, Fawn turned off the water and tossed the hose back into the sink as she angrily eyed the sodden pair.

"YOU FUCKIN' IDIOTS!" Fawn's red hot anger—a curse from both her parents—was blazing as she faced the two men responsible for tearing her shop apart. Taking a deep breath, Fawn was shaking with rage as she opened and closed her clenched fists. "Opie," She started in a deceptively calm voice. "Meet my _ex,_ Max. Max, meet my _EX_ , Opie. Now, GET OUT, you stupid ASSHOLES!" Fawn stormed to the back of the shop leaving the two men to stare at her violently twitching ass.

"Damn it, She-Devil!" Max yelled at her retreating back. "It's always the same shit with you, isn't it?!"

First swiping at his bloody nose, then ruefully massaging his chin as he eyed his rapidly swelling cheek in one of the cracked mirrors, Max turned to eye the large man who was standing a good four inches taller than him and held out a hand to the somewhat bewildered outlaw biker.

"Max Ryder," He said. "You have my sympathy man."

Glaring down at the man with dark shoulder-length hair and broad shoulders, Opie saw that the fire had died down in Max's blue eyes and he had a half-smile on his busted up face. Reluctantly, the outlaw biker shook his hand.

"Opie Winston," He managed in a calm voice in spite of a busted and bleeding lip. "It's nice to know I'm not alone in fuckin' Crazy Town, but if I catch any part of you on my girl again, I'll kill you."

Max chuckled good-naturedly. "I can accept that," He replied engagingly. " _For now_."

Suddenly, both men heard Fawn's voice booming from the back of the shop. "Get the FUCK out, you FUCKIN' assholes, before I call the FUCKIN' cops!"

Looking at each other with raised eyebrows, both men suddenly broke out into full blown laughter.

As Tina watched the men commiserating over their connection to Fawn, she shook her head in wonderment and relief. She had known Max as long as Fawn had and, over the years, she had witnessed him throw dozens—if not hundreds—of punches because of her young and beautiful friend. Most of those brawls usually ended up with Fawn storming off and Max buying his would-be rival a beer.

Tina suspected that the overly-confident young man couldn't see himself ever losing Fawn to another man. Instead, those brawls were more of a show of his alpha male bravado, leading Tina to believe that Max took Fawn for granted. And even worse, as feisty and strong as she was, Fawn allowed it to happen because she felt that was all she deserved from the men in her life.

 _But there had never been another man on the scene like Opie Winston before_ , Tina thought as she eyed Fawn's Redwood eyeing Max. In the few short months they had been together, it was obvious that Opie was fully invested in Fawn and in what they had together. Unfortunately, it was also clear that Fawn didn't know what to do with that reality because she had never experienced it before and was running the risk of taking Opie for granted.

But Tina would bet her bottom dollar that, unlike Fawn, being taken for granted was something the outlaw biker would not allow.

* * *

Opie had every intention of hashing shit out with his woman right then and there, but coming to his senses, he thought better of it. Having nearly wrecked her place of business, the SAMCRO VP knew that the fiery redhead would want to grind his ass into dog meat and he would prefer that didn't happen in front of a gaggle of gossips.

Besides, in spite of going a couple of rounds with Max Ryder, Opie still found himself wanting to punch a hole through something as he thought about what he just happened to walk in on. Seeing the woman he loved in the arms of an ex-lover as he nearly swallowed her damn tongue had blindsided him. Even now, Opie felt himself getting hot all over as his rage rose again.

 _I need to cool off before talking to Big Red_ , Opie convinced himself as he ran a hand with bleeding knuckles over his face. Shaking his head, Opie talked himself out of putting a bullet in the back of Max's head as a way of calming down. _Knowing Fawn and her mouth, I'll eventually end up killing someone for her, so I might as well pace myself. But shit! I wanna kill the prick_.

With Fawn currently locked in the shop's restroom, Opie tried to do his part by setting a chair upright only to discover it had a broken leg as it toppled over. The two men vying for the affections of the same woman sheepishly offered their apologies to the wide-eyed women in the shop before leaving. Opie and Max walked through what was left of the shop's pitiful door frame and stood on the sidewalk eyeing each other.

"She's pretty pissed, huh?" Max asked ruefully.

"That's clearly an understatement." Opie replied.

"Don't know why it surprises me. She always had a temper to match that hair of hers." Turning to face the outlaw biker, Max grinned as he looked past the man's bulky frame. "It looks like we have some company."

Looking over his shoulder, Opie smirked as he saw a group of the salon's patrons and employees watching them through the shop's windows scatter like a bunch of hens. "I don't know about you, but I'm not planning on putting on a show any more than we already have. _My_ girl wouldn't appreciate it."

Taking note of the man's possessive branding, Max raised an eyebrow. Getting a closer look at his competition outside in the bright sunshine, he wasn't at all surprised by what he saw.

 _After all, She-Devil has a type._ Never one for the clean-cut yuppies, it didn't surprise Max that Fawn liked her playthings a little dirty. It did surprise him, however, that her current boy toy was a biker and not one of those weekend warrior-types either. _The real deal_ , Max thought as he took in the intricate tattoo around Opie's neck and kutte on his back.

Giving the obvious outlaw a wry grin, Max folded his arms over a very broad chest. "You mind if we continue this conversation in private?"

"I'd prefer it, actually."

"Is there a bar around here? I could really use a drink." Max rubbed the bruise on the left side of his jaw, just grateful his nose had stopped bleeding.

"Yeah, not too far from here." Opie replied. "Where's your ride?" Max nodded towards the large shiny black GMC pickup parked at the corner. Opie raised an eyebrow. "At least it's not some foreign-made piece of shit cage." He murmured as Max laughed good-naturedly. Opie shook his head as he wondered what the deal was with this Max as he reached into his kutte and pulled out his prepay. "Lemme me make a call first. Then you can follow me."

Thinking that the very least he could do to start damage control with Fawn was getting some extra hands down to the shop to clean up the mess he had a large part in creating, Opie hit the speed dial for the Club's newest Prospect.

* * *

It was a quiet afternoon inside The Hairy Dog. Comprised mostly of the construction workers doing the renovations down at the local hair salon, the large lunch crowd had already headed back to work. With their next rush of customers not expected until Happy Hour starting at five o'clock, now that they had some downtime, Patsy sent his son Frank to the stock room to take inventory of the liquor.

Pushing 82, Patsy had long ago given up any hope of ever retiring. With no one left willing to take on the family business, it was far more likely that he would die in the bar. His only hope of keeping the pub in the family was his only son Frank, a former meth addict that had finally managed to get on the wagon and stay on for a few years now. Even clean, however, Patsy didn't hold out much hope for Frank as a businessman, who had burned through so many of his brain cells he couldn't keep the days of the week straight in his head.

Deep in thought, the older man's musings were interrupted when the door opened to reveal two hulking figures as they entered the bar. Taking note of the kutte on the first man through the door, Patsy's heart accelerated up to a dangerous speed for a man his age. Even though Opie Winston was well known in town, Patsy had never had any run-ins with the SAMCRO VP. Getting a good look at the tall and bulky man that followed him in, the fresh bruises and dried blood on both men put the bar owner on high alert.

 _Whatever it is that they have started, I sure hope they didn't come here to finish it_.

Taking a seat at one of the corner tables facing the entrance, Opie eyed his companion. "Beer? Something stronger?"

"Beer sounds good."

Opie waved two fingers at Patsy, who quickly pulled two pints and placed them on their table before returning behind the bar.

* * *

Most women who knew Max Ryder would probably say that he was arrogant and had a high opinion of himself, but he didn't think that was fair. After all, was it really arrogance to know the affect he had on women in general, and on one woman in particular?

However, as he eyed the man sitting across from him, Max had to admit that he had made a bad judgment call in giving his fiery redhead a little too much time to come to her senses. After their last break up over a year ago, Max had allowed himself to get overly distracted by the work he loved so much and had not returned to Seattle in all that time.

With a small gap in his schedule, Max had returned only long enough to find out that his girl had picked up stakes and moved to some fuckin' dead end town in NorCal. In spite of his overwhelming desire to see Fawn and be with her again, Max still had a contractual commitment for another two months before he could finally track her fine ass down. Now that he had, it was only to discover that there was another man in what he knew was _his_ rightful place.

But with the situation quickly escalating between him and fuckin' Goliath down at the salon, Max knew Fawn well enough to know just what position he held on her Shit List. He did figure, however, that he had a slight edge over the biker since he had not been the one to start the fight. And that was a fact he planned on using to his advantage.

In the meantime, Max was prepared to let his current competition think of Fawn as "his" so he could pick the man's brain for as much information that would help him win Fawn back.

"So," Max began. "You're a Son."

"That's right." Opie raised an eyebrow. "You're familiar with the Club?"

He nodded. "I know one of the guys from your Tacoma charter, Donut." He offered.

"He's a good patch." Opie said before taking a large gulp of beer. "How do you know him?"

"I did a little work for him some years back," Max said easily. Changing the subject, he continued as he pointed at the patch on Opie's kutte. "I see you're VP of your charter."

Opie nodded as he looked at the man through narrowed eyes. If not for his size, Max was dangerously close to crossing the line into pretty boy territory. "That's right."

"Fawn's dad is a member too, right?"

"Yeah, Tig's my brother." Opie felt his nostrils flare slightly.

"I have to say, I was kind of surprised that Fawn came down here to see her father. I mean, last I heard, she didn't have much love for the old man."

"Shit changes." Opie replied nonchalantly as he shrugged his shoulders. He was growing tired of the fucking third-degree. He wasn't about to discuss Fawn's relationship with Tig. He wanted some information of his own. "And what do you do?"

"I'm a jack of all trades," Max smiled. "Right now, I'm a stage manager and spent the summer working the concert festival circuit."

"Really?" Opie drawled. "What kind of shit is that?"

Max took another sip of his beer. "Roadie-type shit, except I do a lot more delegating these days. I oversee stage set up and break down, lighting, sound. I'm a pussy-wrangler, drug dealer, whatever the talent requires. I'm in between gigs right now. The bike rally at Sturgis is my next stop. As a biker, I'm sure you've heard of it." He smirked.

Opie nodded slightly. "Never been, though. Not really my Club's kind of scene."

"Yeah, I get it," Max chuckled. "The Sons have quite a reputation for living off the grid."

"I didn't say all that, now." Opie stated. "Weekend warrior-type rallies just aren't our thing."

Max had been working the concerts at Sturgis for the past five years and, even though there had been a shift towards a more PC kind of crowd, outlaw MCs—although not openly welcomed—always managed to find their way in. The Sons of Anarchy had a reputation for keeping their ranks tight so there really wasn't much socializing with other one-percenters on their part.

"Come fall, I'm booked to work some gigs in Europe and Asia through early spring." Max continued.

"Sounds like high profile work. Must keep you out of town a lot." Opie said silkily. _And away from Fawn. What a fuckin' idiot._

"Yeah, that is the one major drawback. Just imagine my surprise when I returned to Seattle and found out that Fawn had left for Charming. This is the first break I've had in over a year. I came as soon as I could to look for _my_ girl, hoping that I'd be able to talk some sense into her."

Opie's grin was somewhat deceptive. "Somehow I think Fawn would find many things wrong with that statement."

"Listen, man, I think it's pretty obvious that we're both in the shit with Fawn," Max said casually. "Only difference is she and I have a history spanning many years. You've been with her for how long?" He asked, fishing for information.

But the SAMCRO VP wasn't as forthcoming as his talkative counterpart. "Long enough for Fawn to not only settle down and be happy in Charming, but to become _my_ woman, as well."

Max smiled as he shook his head. "I find that hard to believe. I've known her for a long time and Fawn's a big city girl. She loves the hustle of city life and has a great job at a high-end salon with a celebrity clientele. I would feel bad about the damage we did to the shop she's working in now, but I think we did the owner a favor. Maybe now they'll have to fix up that shit hole." He laughed.

"She is." Opie smiled almost evilly. "It's Fawn's dream to turn that _shit hole_ into something really great. By the time she's done with it, it'll be the most popular salon in Sanwa County." He grinned even wider as Max's jaw nearly hit the table.

"You're fuckin' with me! Fawn _owns_ that place?"

"She and a couple of partners." Opie replied. "Charming may not have the hustle and glamour of Seattle, but she's managed to settle down into living a small town life. Sometimes, it just takes the right man to tame a big city wild cat and make her purr like a kitten."

Opie could see that last blow had hit the man low. The idea that Fawn could so radically change her life had knocked him for a loop. And now that Opie had him against the ropes, he was determined to lay shit out for him loud and clear.

"I prolly shouldn't have said anything. Fawn would have told you herself had you not jumped on her ass when you first saw her. But just in case it's not clear, not only did she start a new business in Charming, she also started a new life. _With me_." Opie said emphatically. "My guess is you had your chance and fucked it up. You want a second chance with her? You're gonna have to get through me first."

Max didn't like the confidence he was hearing coming from the outlaw biker, who sounded sure and secure of his place in Fawn's life. But not even the idea of having to mow down this behemoth to get to his girl was enough to dissuade him. The moment he had returned to Seattle and found Fawn gone had been his wake up call. Despite their issues, of which they had plenty, he knew that they were meant to be together. She understood him like no other woman ever had. She gave him his space when he wanted it and, to date was the best fuck he's had in his life. He certainly wasn't about to give her up without a fight simply on the biker's say so.

Max leaned back and balanced his weight on the legs of his chair as he eyed the tough man sitting across from him. It was a shame really. Another time and place, Max might have called Opie a friend. Considering Fawn's strained relationship with her biker father and taking into account the mouth on her, he was more than a little surprised that Fawn had taken up with the SAMCRO VP. It was no secret that women were generally treated like property within MCs and the Fawn he knew would not allow herself to be mistreated or used as a sexual outlet unless she was the one calling the shots.

_And something tells me that this guy's not likely to allow Fawn that measure of control._

Looking at the outlaw, there was no doubt in his mind that the man was an ex-con. Doing time for their Club was a badge of honor for these one-percenters. Fawn deciding to slum around for a while with a white trash biker was one thing. The vixen had a soft spot for bad boys, but making a permanent connection with a man that could end up doing hard time was a cry for help. In spite of their drama and their last ugly break up, Max cared too much about Fawn to want her to end up unhappy.

"We share six years of history, so I'm guessing Fawn will give me that second chance without any more bloodshed. We might have an on-again, off-again kinda thing going, but its steeped in years of knowledge and intimacy. She was 22 when I met her." Max sighed. "You think she's gorgeous now, you should've seen her back then. All long limbs and big tits. Man, she was fuckin' amazing—"

"She's still pretty fuckin' amazing." Opie added, his eyes boring into Max.

Chuckling, the other man continued his stroll down memory lane. "And intense. Fuckin' untamable she was, all wild and crazy. She loved coming with me to the shows I was working when I was doing the roadie thing. I never meant for this on-the-road shit to become anything permanent, but the money was good. Way better than what I was making tattooing—"

"You're a tattoo artist?" Opie asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Just another one of my many talents. That's how I met Donut, actually. I did a couple of tats for him, nothing seriously intricate." Max replied, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his handsome face. "I saved my best work for Fawn."

Opie's shoulders tensed. _My Fawn_?!

"Really?" Opie inquired casually. "Which one, that little "X" by her thumb?"

"Nah. Not that one." Max drawled as he took another drink from his pint. Suddenly, it was the best beer he had ever tasted.

Opie blinked. "Oh, that girly little cascade of shooting stars on her right foot."

Max slowly shook his head as he stared the biker down. "Not the sleeve tattoo either." He inwardly grinned as he watched the big man make the connection, knowledge dawning in his dark green eyes, which had they been loaded with ammo would have put Max into an early grave. "It took me seven months to finish it." He continued. "It's pretty detailed and I spent weeks designing it before I'd let myself touch that perfect body with a needle. I chose the canvas for my art wisely, don't you think?"

 _Well, shit, I can't really fuckin' disagree, can I?_ Opie thought grimly. The outlaw biker loved his woman's rose tattoo. To him, Fawn's body was fuckin' perfection and the tattoo _was_ indeed a work of art. Together? _Well, shit!_

Opie didn't care for the smug look on Max's face. Although he loved that tattoo because it was sexy as hell, he had been wise enough not to ask too many questions about it. Now knowing that Max was the artist who had the privilege of doing it was already eating him alive. In spite of wanting to ram the man's perfect set of teeth down his throat with his ringed fist, Opie found he had to give the bastard his props.

"You do good work, man. You should be proud of that shit." Opie finished the last two-thirds of his beer in one gulp.

"I am." Max nodded. "So, what's your favorite part?" He invited cockily.

Instead of throttling him, Opie couldn't believe he let the words jump off his tongue. "The flowers over her right breast. And the way the vines wrap around her waist—"

"Twice," Max acknowledged, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Utter. Fuckin'. Perfection. Man, you can't imagine how much I enjoyed—"

Max held up a hand. "I can, so please, no need to paint me a visual. It's not like it's something I'm ever likely to forget."

Opie winced and closed his eyes tight, his thumb and index finger squeezing the bridge of his nose as his own vivid imagination took over. Suddenly, he could see Fawn, her naked skin luminous and flawless, spread out on a bed as Max straddled her with his tattoo gun in hand, marking her with his art, stamping her with a part of himself forever.

 _Fuck!_ He didn't like that shit at all, especially since he hadn't told her how much he loved her, much less asked her to wear his crow. It was something he had never asked Donna to do, knowing how much she resented being considered _property_. Now knowing that it had been a former lover that had done the beautiful artwork that decorated her body, the caveman in him wanted—needed—to mark Fawn as his own.

"This getting-to-know-you bull session has certainly been interesting," Opie said a little heatedly. "But it doesn't exactly settle our current situation."

"No, it doesn't." Max shook his head. "Listen, Fawn's a grown woman and us acting like a couple of Neanderthals fighting over a piece of meat won't endear either of us to her. Bottom line, it's up to her to decide who she wants to be with. Can we at least agree on that?" Max offered with no intention of playing fair.

"Sure," Opie lied with a straight face. "That's sounds reasonable."

"Good. I think it's best if we let her get to it then. I'll be in California for a while for some meetings and I intend on seeing Fawn whenever she'll cooperate. After the mess we made, it might take a minute for her to calm the fuck down though."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Opie said sarcastically.

Max held out a beefy hand across the table. "No hard feelings?"

Opie reached over and shook the man's hand. "None taken. After all, it's not my face looking like raw meat right about now."

Smiling, Max stood up and dropped a couple of bills on the table and strode towards the bar's entrance like a man without a care in the world. Walking over to the bar, Opie ordered three fingers of Jack Daniels, which he drained in one gulp before paying Patsy and heading for his ride.

Even though Opie was almost sure he would have killed Max with his bare hands had Fawn not turned the hose on them, he was glad he had taken the time to talk to the man. In spite of Max's history with her, it had obviously not been enough to keep Fawn rooted in Seattle waiting for his return. Opie knew what they had, although new, was strong and intense. He loved her for fuck's sake! And unlike Max, who was stupid enough to let Fawn slip away—more than once by his own accounting—Opie had no such intention of letting his Big Red get away from him.

_Ever._

* * *

"Give me one good reason why I should open the door!" Fawn yelled.

"Because if you don't, I'll kick it the fuck down!" Opie's voice thundered loud and clear despite the firmly closed front door between them.

 _That's a good enough_ _reason_ , inner-Fawn said. _You better let him in. You know you done wrong and you know he_ _will_ _kick it down._

 _Me?_ _What the fuck did I do wrong?_ Fawn yelped.

 _Oh, I don't know. Maybe he's a little upset about Max falling out of the sky and landing on your lips, for starters_ , inner-Fawn replied acidly _. You should have told him about Max from the word go._ _And you know I'm right._

Fawn wanted to argue that she was a victim of crap that was beyond her control in the form of a former boyfriend showing up out of the blue and fucking her shit up. She couldn't do so in good conscience, however, and had to concede that she _might_ have been just a little reckless in not giving Opie, the new man in her life, full disclosure.

Knowing that Redwood never made idle threats, Fawn finally released the chain and the locks. Throwing the door wide open, she stomped her way back to the living room like a petulant child. Fawn wasn't about to fall down on the couch again, giving Opie an unfair advantage like she unknowingly had the last time. She didn't plan on falling anywhere she might be in danger of getting pounced on.

_The last time this scenario played out, I found my back on the floor and my knees up by my ears._

_What's wrong with that plan_? Inner-Fawn argued. _I like that plan. I think that's a very good plan_ _. I vote we go with that plan._

Instead, Fawn stood in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed over her chest as she angrily eyed her outlaw biker. She had prepared this time around and had chosen her outfit with great care. Wearing skin tight black leather pants, a deep brown bolero shirt, and a brand new pair of killer six-inch boots, she looked sexy and statuesque. Her new height put her almost at eye level with the massive tree in her living room. As furious as she was, Fawn could see that Opie was equally as pissed, his whole attitude screaming that he had no intention of backing down.

So, instead of tempering the situation by admitting she had wronged him, Fawn started off in attack mode. "If you think that sending Kenny over—"

"Dirty Harry—"

" _Dirty Harry_ over to clean up the damage you caused is gonna stop me from ripping you a new one, you can think again, Mister!"

It was clear from her attitude that his tempestuous redhead was going to make this difficult. Fortunately, Opie had a lot more patience than some of his more hardcore biker brothers who didn't take lip from anyone, especially their women. Fawn could completely lose her shit with him if she wanted to. It just made taming her wild ass when she was pinned underneath him that much more satisfying.

"Do you really want to go there, Fawn? After the shit you pulled?" Opie asked, considerably calmer than Fawn expected.

"Are we on the same page here? _I_ wasn't the one tossing a man around my shop while beating the ever-loving shit outta him!"

 _Gurl, you know that shit was hot as fuck_ , inner-Fawn jeered. _Who you trying to kid_?

"No, babe, you are obviously one page ahead of me." Opie replied sarcastically. "See, you skipped the part about NOT telling me that there was a former asshole boyfriend lurking and waiting to make a comeback. Had you mentioned that before, maybe I wouldn't have felt the need to pound him into dust."

"Oh my Gawd! You are so full of shit! You know as well as I do that you would have wiped the floor with Max anyway, regardless of whether you knew about him or not." She retorted.

"Oh, you got that right!" Opie replied heatedly. "Introductions became totally unnecessary once I caught him with his tongue down your fuckin' throat. Keeping my ass in the dark about this guy is bullshit, Fawn, and you know it, especially after I came clean to you about Emily."

"Uh, _hello_ , it is _so_ not the same thing!" Fawn blustered. "You were still banging that skank after I came to Charming. What Max and I had ended over a year ago! I didn't tell you about him because he was out of my life and _irrelevant_ by the time I met you."

Hearing the former boyfriend characterized as "irrelevant" was certainly a step in the right direction and took a lot of the heat out of his ire. What punched Opie in the gut was the realization that Fawn was keeping him at arm's length. A six-year relationship, in his mind, merited at least a mention. Aside from the fact that the asshole had taken liberties with his girl, the ex-boyfriend _was_ irrelevant. What wasn't was Fawn keeping shit from him and that was something they were going to have to hash out.

"Irrelevant? Well, I don't think Max got that memo." Opie ran his hands through his hair as he murmured to himself. "You didn't tell me about Max. Maybe you didn't tell Max you two were over either."

"What?!" Fawn gasped, genuinely shocked that he would think that of her. "You know what? To hell with you!" Fawn made to turn away and leave the room. "I don't need this sh—"

Before she could take a step in the opposite direction, Opie closed the gap between them. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he lifted Fawn so that they were eye to eye. "You have any idea how close I came to killing that little fucker today? I had to talk myself out of putting a bullet in his goddamn skull! Whatever you had with him may be in the past, but that shit was not something I should have been slapped in the fuckin' face with. I didn't deserve that." He said quietly and suddenly released her, setting her back on her feet.

Letting her wide eyes fall to Opie's dusty boots, Fawn felt a measure of shame at the sound of disappointment in his voice.

 _You deserve that shit_ , inner-Fawn said snidely.

_Yeah, I do._

With so many failed relationships under her belt, Tina had often teased Fawn that she wouldn't know what to do with herself if she ever found the right man. She would laugh it off because, as far as Fawn was concerned, the "right" man was a myth. It took coming to a place called Charming to make her realize that he did exist and that it definitely wasn't Max. _Never had been_. The right man was Opie Winston and she was in serious danger of fucking it up, if she hadn't already.

 _All he's asking for is a measure of trust_ , inner-Fawn counseled.

_And I keep refusing to give it to him. Why?_

' _Cause it makes you vulnerable, duh! It's easier for you to be in a relationship where you know you don't matter_ , inner-Fawn said bluntly. _You can't be disappointed if you don't expect much in return, but with Opie, even though he hasn't said it yet, you know he loves you. And that scares the shit out of you because you know you love him too._

_I do, don't I?_

Fawn sighed as she ran a hand through her hair as she eyed Opie's implacable stance as he faced her. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

Surprised, Opie did his level best not to crack a smile. "I didn't catch that, Big Red. What did you say?"

Fawn blew a hard breath through her teeth. "I said I'm sorry, damn it!" She repeated loudly.

"What for?" Opie was met with a hard blue glare before she tugged rather sharply on her hair and then rolled her eyes.

"For not being upfront about Max, alright? Damn! You're worse than my mother!" She huffed and then slumped down on the sofa in disgust. _That's not all_ , inner-Fawn reminded her. Fawn felt her heart rate pick up as her palms grew sweaty. She had to get the words out before her throat closed in on itself. "And for not telling you before now," She took a deep, fortifying breath. "That I love you."

Stunned, Opie felt rooted to the spot. Peeping up at him through her thick lashes as she wrung her hands on her lap, Fawn couldn't read his expression as he just stared at her. Opie could tell she was about to panic and, before she did, he cleared his throat and let a slight smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "Babe, was it really _that_ hard to fess up to?"

Feeling tears about to fall, Fawn jumped up and flew into his arms. "Yes it was, asshole!" She laughed as Opie hugged her tight against him. Pulling back slightly, Fawn cupped his bearded cheek as she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "That's something I've never said in a relationship before. Not even with Max."

"Did you, though? Love him?" Opie asked carefully. Fawn could see by the look on his face that it pained him to ask.

"I thought I did, but I never said it because it never sounded sincere, not even in my own head." Fawn explained honestly. "I'm so happy I never said it because now I know for a fact I didn't. I love _you_ , Ope."

Opie smiled broadly. "I love you too, babe." He whispered reverently against her lips before kissing her deeply. Breaking away from their embrace, Opie had his hands buried in her hair. "I don't know what damage the shitty men in your life have done to you, but you have to trust that I'm not like them, Fawn."

"I know you're not, baby."

"Good." Opie said emphatically. "Now, you wanna tell me about your relationship with Max?"

"No." Fawn replied with a furrowed brow. "There's nothing to tell." Pulling away, she sat down on the couch again.

Opie walked over and sat on the coffee table across from her. "Six years and there's nothing to tell?"

Fawn sputtered. "Well shit, how did you know that?"

"He told me." Opie replied. Fawn crossed her arms and waited for him to continue. "We had a little chat after we busted up the shop." He smiled sheepishly.

"Are you shitting me? So, instead of talking like grown men first, you bust my shop up and _then_ decide to have a civilized conversation?"

Opie shrugged his broad shoulders. "Pretty much. Sorry about that, babe."

Muttering under her breath about men and their caveman logic, Fawn sighed. "What else did he tell you?"

"Probably more than I needed to know about his line of work. And definitely more than I _wanted_ to know about your tattoo."

Fawn shivered a little as she noted the heat in his eyes. "He told you he did this?" She asked, placing her hand at the base of her throat over the rose.

Opie nodded. "That's a pretty big statement there. He must have really cared about you to go through all that trouble."

Fawn chuckled. "Don't read too much into the significance of it, Redwood. Trust me, it's not as romantic as you might think."

"I don't know. It seems like a grand romantic gesture to me, branding the woman he loves with his art."

"Well, I was 22 and I did it to piss my mother off." Fawn said, eliciting a chuckle out of Opie. "And you may think he was a man proclaiming his love for me through his art, but did he tell you that he did the same exact tattoo on an ex-roommate of mine, who he just so happened to be fucking behind my back?" Opie laughed as he ran his hand over his face. "Needless to say, he begged my forgiveness and I took him back, setting the tone of our 'relationship' for the next six years."

"You could have told me all of this in the beginning, Fawn. I still would have kicked his ass for kissing you, but you would have saved me a lot of angst and worry."

Fawn beamed at Opie. "Worry? About what?" She batted her long eyelashes at him.

Opie rolled his eyes. "You know about what."

"You were worried that an old flame was gonna sweep me off my feet?" Fawn teased as Opie just stared at her and blinked. "Aw, that wasn't gonna happen, baby. My feet haven't touched the ground since I met you."

Opie groaned, and then laughed before pulling her off the couch and onto his lap. "That was so corny, it hurt my ears."

Laughing, Fawn draped her arms over his shoulders. "You know you love it."

Drinking her in, Opie gave her a crooked smile. "God help me, but I do." He said, claiming her mouth with his as he got up from the table with his feisty bundle in his arms and carried her off to her bedroom.

* * *

Fawn was busy stacking clean towels in the linen closet by the shampoo station when she heard Lexie exclaim "Uh-oh!" from clear across the salon. Running the hand of her arm sporting several inches of sparkly silver bangles through her hair, she was almost afraid to look up. With Opie nearly killing him the day before, it really shouldn't come as a surprise that Max was proving to be as dumb as he was stubborn by showing up at the shop again. Shaking her head, Fawn watched as the man walked towards her with a big-ass bouquet of flowers in his arms.

"Max! What in blue blazes are you doing here?!" Fawn hissed under her breath. "I thought I kicked your ass out yesterday."

"You did, She-Devil, but you should know by now that you can't get rid of me that easily." Max drawled as he held out the flowers. "Besides, I brought you your favorite."

Fawn looked down and sighed at the beautiful bouquet of summer flowers. "Aw, you remembered." She said with faux-sweetness. "Nice try, actually, but it's gonna take a hell of a lot more bouquets like this one to cover up the fact you nearly destroyed my shop."

"Hey, any destruction of property on my part occurred in self-defense, gorgeous, but I am truly sorry." Dropping to one knee, Max grabbed Fawn's hand and squeezed it softly. "You know you can't stay mad at me for keeps. I'm a total ass, you know this." He pleaded, his boyish charm rolling off of him in waves.

"Yeah, I do." Fawn couldn't help it and snorted with laughter. "Get up off the damn floor, you idiot!"

Max flashed her a brilliant grin as he stood up. "You calling me 'idiot' is _way_ better than you calling the cops, so I'll take it."

"Don't get too comfortable," Fawn warned him. "The flowers were a lovely gesture, but you have no reason to be here. We broke up over a year ago."

"Baby, you weren't serious about breaking shit off with me. You were just mad that I was hitting the road again so soon after just getting back." Max replied as Fawn gawked at him like he had lost his mind. "I told you we would discuss this when I got back."

"Oh, yeah," Fawn nodded. "Now I remember. How did we end that conversation? Wait, I know. _I_ told you to FUCK OFF!" She tossed the flowers at his feet and went back to organizing the linen closet.

Max bent over to pick up the bouquet. "That's not fair, Fawn. You ended things right before I hit the road—"

"Two weeks before." She reminded him.

"Still, that wasn't enough time to fix shit before I left. C'mon," He beseeched. "You at least owe me the chance to plead my case."

"You had a whole year to plead your case and never called me once," Fawn turned on him. "I took the silence on your end as an implied agreement that we were over. As you can see, I've moved on with my life."

Max snorted derogatorily. "You call relocating to a shit town and hooking up with an outlaw biker 'moving on'? Shit, Fawn, that's really taking your daddy issues to the extreme, don't you think?"

"Watch where you take that shit, Max." Fawn's eyes flashed dangerously. "You have no idea what my life is like now."

"You're right, I don't and you're not giving me the chance to find out either." Max defended himself. "Don't you at least owe me that much?"

Fawn shook her head. "I don't owe you shit."

"Then humor me, please." Max suggested. "Let me at least take you to lunch. We can catch up on shit and I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman."

 _Lunch? Shit, Ellie should be back any minute with lunch_ , Fawn realized. Taking Max up on his offer seemed like the quickest way of getting him out of the salon before Ellie returned and made a call to the Outlaw Hotline. _I want Max gone, not_ _gone_ _gone._

"Okay," Fawn gave in. "I'll meet you outside in a minute."

Watching as she headed to the back for her hobo bag, Max grinned to himself.

 _I've got her now_ , he thought before handing an astonished Lexie the bouquet of flowers before heading out the door _._

* * *

"It's over, Max." Fawn said firmly.

Having followed behind him in her car, the couple had been sitting in a booth at the back of Nicky's Diner for the past hour nursing two cups of black coffee. After playing catch up and discussing all of the things they had done since last seeing each other, Max finally got down to brass tacks. Unfortunately, he was adamant about resisting Fawn's attempts to get him to see reason.

"Baby, after so many years together, are you really willing to give up what we have?"

" _Had_ ," Fawn corrected. "And it's not six years like you told Opie, but five. It ended a year ago, Max."

"Not for me." Max replied with a shake of his head.

Fawn eyed the determined man sitting across from her. "But it did for me and the last time I checked, it takes two to be in a relationship. Besides, I was the only one willing to recognize that neither of us was truly invested in each other. You would take off at a moment's notice for months at a time, not even thinking twice about it, and it never really bothered me. It _should_ have bothered me, Max. And it should have bothered you that it _didn't_ bother me."

"Don't you see? That's why we're perfect together, Fawn." Max reasoned. "We both love what we do and we never got in each other's way, but when we were together, we were _together_ , babe. What we had was perfect. Why would you want to end it?"

"Because for a time I thought that was all I deserved and it was enough for me until it just wasn't anymore." Fawn explained. "I know that once you hit the road, I was out of sight, out of mind. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you when you were gone, only to wait for you to leave when you came back."

Max sat back in the booth and ran his hand over the whiskers of his goatee. "That's not you talking, Fawn. That's Tina, dropping shit in your ear."

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe, but I was unhappy all the time. All she did was make me understand that I didn't have to accept being unhappy. Breaking up with you was one of the hardest moves I have ever made. Harder even than deciding to stay in Charming, but it's probably the best thing I have ever done because I am actually happy now."

Max shook his head and chuckled derisively. "Who would've thought Fawn Trager would find true happiness as a small town biker bitch?"

Fawn's ocean blue eyes flashed angrily. "That's it. I'm done." She grabbed her bag that was sitting next to her and started sliding out of the booth, but Max reached across the table and grabbed her hand.

"No. Stop. I'm sorry, Fawn. Really." Max said quickly, his pale blue eyes remorseful. "Please don't go yet."

Fawn stared at him for a long time before throwing her purse back down. "I get it, Max. Even though it's been over a year, this shit seems to be hitting you sideways, but you need to understand that this isn't just some temporary stop gap for me. I've created a place for myself here in Charming—and I'm in a relationship with a man that I really care about. You may not like it, but I expect you to be adult enough _not_ to talk to me with disrespect. You never have before, so don't start now."

"I'm sorry. I really am." Max apologized again. Crossing his arms, he leaned his elbows on the table. "So what you're telling me, she-devil, is that after all this time, there's nothing left in your heart for me?" He asked sadly.

Fawn squirmed a little. She had come to the eye-opening realization the night before that she never had anything real in her heart for Max. Even though she knew that to be the truth, saying it to him now, on top of everything else, would be cruel and Fawn didn't hate him and didn't want to hurt him that way.

"Just because something is familiar and feels comfortable doesn't mean that you should hold onto it, especially if it's past its expiration date." Fawn tried to be diplomatic.

It didn't work.

"Ouch!" Max tried to smile, but he was finding it a little difficult. "That hurts."

"I didn't mean it to and I'm sorry if it does. It's just the way it is."

"Look, I realize that things haven't always been the way you wanted them to be in the past. I can admit that I'm responsible for that and I could have done things differently, but it's never too late for me to change, Fawn."

"It's not," Fawn agreed. "So take what you've learned and find your soul mate. I've already found mine." Fawn's blue eyes brooked no argument.

Truly shocked at first, Max was stumped. He really couldn't believe that his She-Devil had moved on.

Sitting in the booth of the crowded diner Max tried to ignore the sounds of customers as they heartily dug into their meals, the noise of flatware clinking against plates and the tired voices of waitresses as they called out their orders to the short order cook in the kitchen.

His mea culpa with Fawn was not going at all the way he had planned, and as he stared intently at her squared shoulders and forthright gaze, Max was feeling a little ball of what amazingly felt like fear hit him in his belly.

_Is it possible that I have truly lost her? And to a redneck biker, no less?_

That fleeting thought was something Max refused to let grow and fester in his head. Instead of taking what Fawn had said from her heart at face value, he quickly convinced himself that Fawn's about face had more to do with bringing him to heel than her falling out of love with him. There was just no way possible that she could be that vested in a relationship with the outlaw. Ignoring the little voice in his head telling him different, Max reached over to take Fawn's hand in his. Bringing it to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist, he smiled inwardly as he noted the little reciprocal spark in her eyes. Max realized that he needed to vocalize his own feelings for her.

" _You_ are my soul mate, Fawn," He insisted sincerely, trying to convince himself that he truly meant it. "I guess I just need to give you time to realize that, too. I think you've allowed Tina to get you all twisted up about us, but I'm man enough to admit that on some levels she's absolutely right. I _have_ taken you for granted, but I'm not giving up on you without a fight, beautiful. After all, you know what they say: 'All's fair in love and war'." He gave her a wicked smile. "I'll be in and out of Cali over the next month or so. I'll give you the time and space, a few weeks, to think about what I said." He advised. "Then I'm coming back for you."

Noting the daggers she was shooting at him, he grinned as he held up his hands. "Hey, we're in public, so try to resist the urge to stab me in the heart." He teased.

"I'm tempted to stab you somewhere else, but that would put a permanent crimp on your love life." Fawn threatened. "Regardless of our relationship being over," She said firmly. "I still like you, Max."

"Betcha still like my big dick, too." He said winking at her as she rolled her eyes and snorted with laughter. Tossing several bills on the table, he stood up and bent over to kiss her briefly on the lips before walking off. "I'll be back, She-Devil."

Fawn turned her head to watch as the powerful and sexy man strode down the aisle towards the diner's exit and sighed.

_Why can't he just take no for an answer? He's just prolonging the inevitable._

_The inevitable being that Redwood's gonna kill him if he comes back,_ inner-Fawn added. _You should have worked a little harder at putting him out of his misery before Opie takes care of that for ya._

Fawn chuckled to herself. _He narrowly avoided catching a bullet in his ass this time around, didn't he?_

Grabbing her bag, Fawn slowly headed towards her car as she thought about the possible shit storm heading her way and decided to table it for now.

_There's no need for Opie to commit capital murder because, no matter how Max thinks he feels, I love my Redwood and I know he loves me like no other man alive ever has. And he's taught me not to settle for anything less._

* * *

The sun was setting on a mild September evening and most of the shops at the far end of Main Street had closed about an hour ago.

The salon was no exception, but with Lexie in Arizona for the weekend to visit Gina for her birthday and Fawn spending alone time with her Redwood down at the Clubhouse, Tina was the shop's lone occupant. Not in a rush to go back to an empty house, Tina was trying to keep herself busy by cleaning up and restocking the supply closet.

Tina sighed as she used the box cutter to open a box of paraffin wax for spa pedicures she had bought during her recent buying trip to Stockton. It had been a long day at work spent troubleshooting a number of small issues that had developed regarding the construction upstairs and in advertising meetings with several local publications. It was fun work, especially in the great environment Fawn and Lexie fostered in the salon, but the older woman was beat.

As tired as she was, it was nice being in the salon by herself, doing a bit of non-strenuous, but necessary busy work in order to wind down before heading home. Although Fawn and Opie did their best to keep her from getting too bored on her down time, Tina tried not to intrude too much on the couple's time together. Being persona non grata with the Club, she found herself spending a lot of evenings home alone, afraid she would run into someone from the SAMCRO inner circle at the supermarket or the diner.

Lost in her musings, Tina barely registered the tinkle of the front door opening.

 _Shit, I forgot to lock it behind Marcy after she left_ , Tina thought as she looked up and froze. Standing in the doorway was a tall and gangly boy staring at her with wide eyes, a large dirt bike propped up against the window of the salon.

Putting down the box cutter, Tina cleared her suddenly dry throat. "Can I help you?"

Shaking his head, he replied, "Nah, I just noticed that the lights were on." The boy looked around, taking in the half finished salon. "I heard there was a lot of construction going on in here. You think you'll be done anytime soon?"

Tina gave him a tentative smile and nodded. "In a few weeks. You plan on being our first customer?" She was surprised when the boy boldly stepped inside and sat down in the chair of the station she was using and stared intently at her face before replying.

"Nope, I go to Floyd's up the block for my shit." The boy's eyes roamed around the salon again and smirked. "This is a little too girly for my taste. You're one of the new owners, right?" He asked knowledgably.

"That's right. I'll be managing the new day spa upstairs."

"So I guess that means you'll be staying around town for a while, huh?"

Tina moistened her lips. "That's the plan. Maybe I'll see you around town some time."

"Yeah, maybe." The boy suddenly jumped up from his seat. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but it was nice shooting the shit. I guess I'll see you around."

As the blond-headed young boy swaggered out the door and got on his dirt bike, pumping his legs furiously down the block, Tina felt her own legs give out from underneath her as she collapsed into the chair that the young man had occupied. Grabbing a Kleenex from a box on the station, Tina swiped at the tears that had finally escaped her eyes, and thought about her grandson.

"He has my eyes." She sniffled.


	23. Midnight Run

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Ellie and Tina sat next to each other at the dining room table, watching as Juice nearly inhaled his third helping of Tiramisu. A couple of times a week, when he was free from other Club business, SAMCRO's Intelligence Officer would stop by Tina's place to work on several IT issues for the salon, including its new website and researching a new computerized billing system.

"So you really think this is best one, Juice?" Tina pressed as she looked over the printed materials Juice had gathered.

Pushing his empty dessert plate away, Juice wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ignoring the napkin Tina had set on the table for him to use. "Most definitely," He replied. "What's so great about this system is that it's versatile. Not only does it handle billing, but it keeps track of each individual's receipts and, if the hairdressers get paid a commission, at the end of every pay period you can print out a detailed report. Also, I can program it for booking appointments and keeping track of inventory. With all three on one system, doing monthly expense reports will be a piece of cake and if any of your stylists have smart phones, I can even program it to send bookings or cancellations right to their calendars."

Tina removed her reading glasses and looked up. "I'm impressed. You really did your homework." She smiled at Juice, who was beaming back at her.

He was in his element and having a ball.

As Intelligence Officer for the Club, his work was pretty routine—working and maintaining surveillance at the Clubhouse and the gun warehouse, hacking into databases, gathering street Intel, working with confidential paid informants, and whatnot. Not exactly what he had gone to trade school for, but now he was getting to dabble in the thing he loved fourth best in the world—after his brothers, his bike and pussy—and it really made his day. During the process, Juice had probably learned more about beauty salons than any biker needed to know, but he was still enjoying the work, in spite of Filthy Phil's assurances that he was probably gay.

"It's a pretty pricey system, but it'll pay for itself in less than a year. Since I'll be wiring up the salon's Wi-Fi, computer and alarm systems, I can take care of the installation saving you hundreds of dollars an hour. It's totally worth the investment."

"Juice, you're a real sweetheart and amazing at all this technological stuff," Tina got up from her seat and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek before giving him a tight squeeze. "We couldn't have done any this without your guidance."

Hardcore biker he may be, but the young man was hard pressed not to blush. After all, he had a pair of working eyeballs in his head and despite the fact that she was old enough to be his mother, Tina was fuckin' hot!

 _I sure wouldn't mind getting hooked up with a slice of that shit right there_.

However, noting the smile on Ellie's face after catching him checking out Tina's ass when she turned away brought Juice back to his senses. There was no need courting trouble with his President after Jax agreed to let Juice work with Tina as a favor to his best friend Opie, who wanted to give his girl a hand in anyway she would take it.

Not quite sure what to say after getting busted, the doorbell rang, saving Juice from trying to come up with something.

"Hmm, wonder who that might be." Tina said, giving Ellie a pointed glance before heading towards the front door.

Suddenly finding her leg bouncing up and down restlessly under the table, Ellie freed her hair from its ponytail, shaking it out, as she strained to hear the muted tones of Tina's voice mingling with a warm and familiar baritone.

 _He's here!_ Ellie did what she could to keep her face passive as she moistened her lips, but it was a massive effort as into the dining room walked in Tina, followed by Tiki Munson.

"Hey, bro," Tiki greeted as he slapped a hand on Juice's back. "How's it going?"

"All good, brother."

Tiki turned to face Ellie and smiled. "Hey, Little One. I heard you might be working late tonight and thought you could use the MC Express to take you home."

Tina watched with a sly smile on her face as sparks seemed to fly between the young patch and her little helper. Although her exposure to Club members had been limited to Opie and Tig and now Juice, Tina found she could read Tiki like a book.

She sighed inwardly as it had become abundantly clear over the past couple of weeks that Tiki had his eye on the young Ellie. Although the young man certainly brought the cougar out in her— and Tina had thoroughly enjoyed breaking new cubs in before—she wasn't quite sure Ellie was ready to handle all that maleness wrapped in a leather kutte.

 _They do make an adorable pair_ , Tina thought. _I'm no one to interfere with young love, but that doesn't mean I can't tease them a little._

"That's nice of you, Tiki, but you shouldn't have bothered. I promised Fawn I'd make sure to get Ellie home safely." Tina said helpfully, nearly snorting with laughter as two heads whipped around to simultaneously glare at her.

"Thanks, Tina," Ellie started with a little battle light in her eye. "But since Tiki went through all the trouble of stopping by, I'd hate having it be a waste of time for him. Besides, you're already settled in for the duration, and we were getting ready to call it a night." She discreetly nudged Juice.

"We _were_?" Juice asked puzzled and then caught Ellie's glare. "Ohhh, yeah. We were. We were." He said, his head bobbing up and down as he quickly powered down his laptop and shoved it into a cross body messenger bag. Standing up, Juice looked at a loss of what to say. "Uh, I need to hit the road anyway. Uh, I got some shit I need to do back at the Clubhouse." He lied, still nodding. "Thanks for dessert, Tina. It was great."

"You're welcome, sweetie." Tina smiled. "We can meet up again Wednesday night to go over the design for the website, if that works with your schedule."

"Sounds like a plan." Juice smiled.

Ellie stood up and grabbed her bag and leather jacket. "I'm ready when you are, Tiki." Walking over to Tina, she gave the woman a heartfelt hug. "I'll see you tomorrow at the salon."

Tina stood in her open doorway and watched as the trio walked down the driveway to their rides, noting the closeness between the young couple as they prepared to pull out.

The last thing Tina wanted to do was set fires when there was nothing to burn. _But it might be a good idea if I gave Fawn a call anyway_.

* * *

Tiki knew that it probably wasn't a good idea showing up at Tina's. Over the last couple of weeks, it had become something of a habit and he could no longer convince himself that he was just keeping an eye on the VP's daughter, who was spending a lot of time around Jolene's birth mother. Opie trusted Tina and it was obvious the woman wasn't a threat.

"Tina-gate" had affected everyone who knew and loved the SAMCRO Queen. As her "Uncle Elvis's" youngest son, Jolene had always been a part of Tiki's life and his loyalty belonged to his President's old lady. But Tiki had grown close to Fawn and had missed seeing her hanging around the Clubhouse since Tina's arrival in Charming. To his knowledge, no one had banished her—Opie would have knocked some heads together if that were the case—but Fawn had chosen to stay away anyway out of respect.

After all work down at the salon and no play, however, Opie had managed to convince Fawn to stop by the Clubhouse for a while. She was taken by surprise by how warmly she had been greeted, especially by Tiki's old man Bobby. Knowing how much his father loved Jolene, Tiki was afraid that Fawn would find herself on the permanent outs with Bobby, but watching their little reunion earlier proved otherwise. It seemed that Bobby had missed having Fawn around as much as the rest of the patches that had gotten to know her so well over the last several months. With Opie, Tig and the rest of the brothers rallying to her side, Tiki knew that eventually Fawn would be able to patch things up with Jolene, who had become something of a friend and mentor to the young woman.

Although the party had just started taking off at the Clubhouse, with plenty of booze, weed, and croweaters to go around, watching his VP and Fawn and seeing the obvious affection they had for each other had Tiki finding the sweetbutt perched on his lap sorely lacking.

And then he thought about Ellie.

Which was why, before he could stop himself, Tiki had dumped the tired-looking brunette, palming her off on Filthy Phil, and headed outside for some fresh air. He soon found himself sitting on his bike trying to talk himself out of heading over to Tina's house, where he knew he'd find Ellie.

"So are you gonna stand there and look at me all night or are you gonna give me a ride home?" Ellie teased, the cool night breeze softly kicking her hair around her pretty face.

Tiki smiled down her. Every time he saw her, she looked even better to him than he remembered and he had been seeing her lately on a daily basis. The moonlight illuminating the clear and flawless skin of her face made her seem almost ethereal. She may not have the overpowering beauty of her Aunt Jolene or the stunning and fiery beauty of Fawn, but she was in a class all her own. None of the croweaters or hang-arounds currently down at the Clubhouse, including a couple of porn stars, could ever even dream of holding a candle to Ellie.

There was something about her that was raw yet sweet. She had the face of an angel, but there was definitely fire and brimstone behind those beautiful blue-green orbs. In his opinion, Ellie was what he would call a sinful beauty. Not because she wore pounds of make-up and slutty clothes because she didn't, but because her delicate, fresh, and natural beauty provoked thoughts in him that were sure to send him to hell.

He kept reminding himself that he was six years older and that she was a junior in high school and when he got the urge to see her, Tiki would promise himself that he would keep her jail bait status at the forefront of his mind because he couldn't convince himself to just stay away. The moment he laid eyes on her, however, his first instinct was to kiss those perfectly pouty pink lips of hers.

Ellie was also clever, funny, and snarky, a combination that he was sure his clever, funny, and snarky mother would approve of.

 _What?!_ Tiki mentally face-palmed himself. What was he doing fantasizing about introducing her to his mother? _Shit, if the Club ever found out, I'd be dead for more reasons than one_. But he couldn't help but think that Ellie would make someone a really good old lady one day.

"There's nothing I'd like to do more than stare at you all night, Little One," Tiki almost whispered and smiled as her face quickly flushed. He loved that, instead of being embarrassed, she smiled back at him with the blush staining her cheeks. "But I guess I should get you home tonight, huh?" He handed her his helmet and watched as she strapped it on.

"Do you really have to? I mean, you must have plans for the night after you drop me off, right?" Ellie asked hesitantly.

Getting lost again in those beautiful pools she had for eyes, Tiki shook his head. "No, no plans."

Ellie smiled broadly. "Then you really don't have to take me home right away and it's a really beautiful night for a ride." Tiki took a deep breath, all the reasons why that was a really bad idea were on the tip of his tongue. Seeing him hesitate, Ellie cocked her head to the side and batted her eyelashes at him. "Please."

 _Yeah, this is a really bad idea_ , Tiki thought to himself.

"Hop on, Little One. I know just the place."

* * *

_Shit! I'm dead. Dead, dead, dead!_

That was the mantra running through Tiki's head as he headed back towards the T-M lot.

_Walking her to the door was a bad, bad, bad idea!_

Going for a moonlit ride, surprisingly enough, had not been. It had actually been really nice, even though Tiki couldn't help but wince at the memory of Ellie's thighs gripping him tight as she pressed up against him with her arms wrapped around his waist. That had actually been what he thought would have been the highlight of his night as they headed out for one of his favorite rides.

The mountains of Northern California were beautiful at night, especially when the full moon was out. Tiki had navigated his bike through a series of roads and highways before taking her up one of the mountains to his favorite overlook. Parking his bike, he grabbed her hand and guided her through the dark to a landing where they would have a perfect view of their small hometown of Charming.

"Wow!" Ellie enthused as Tiki watched her take in the sight. "I've never seen Charming like this before. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, absolutely beautiful." Tiki replied quietly. Turning her head to look at him, Ellie realized that Tiki was looking at her and not the view and suddenly felt her heart thumping in her throat.

Realizing that he was staring at her like some creeper, Tiki cleared his throat and turned to look at the town below them. "My old man used to bring me and my brothers here all the time when we were kids. It's one of my favorite places and when I need to take a break from all the noise in the Clubhouse or escape the noise in my own head, I take the ride out here."

"I bet it's just as beautiful during the day, too." Ellie commented.

"It is, but twilight, right before the sun sets, is my favorite time to be here." Tiki admitted. "The majesty of it makes whatever shit I'm dealing with seem insignificant, reminds me that there are greater forces in charge of the grand scheme of things and that I really shouldn't sweat the small stuff."

Ellie smiled at Tiki. In spite of the leather kutte on his back, now more than ever he reminded her of the young Tiki she knew before he overcame his asthma and went through his growth spurt. Tiki had always been the most sensitive of Bobby Munson's boys and as a kid he had always been her favorite. It didn't matter that she was five and he was eleven. Tiki had always made time to play with her, keeping her entertained as Kenny played with the other more robust of the SAMCRO kids. Ellie felt herself blush as she realized that her infatuation with the youngest Munson was nothing new. Tiki had been her first crush, even back then with his braces and the ever-present inhaler.

Sitting side by side on a large rock, they talked for a long while. They shared their memories of growing up in Charming and living in the MC world. Tiki shared the devastation he had felt when his parents divorced right before his tenth birthday and for the first time ever, Ellie opened up about her mother's death with someone not Kenny. By the time she was done, Tiki had a greater understanding as to why she had temporarily gone off the rails. It was clear to him that Chip had taken advantage of her at her most vulnerable and he was glad he had been around to feed Chip his own teeth.

After sharing their personal tragedies with each other, they spent more time talking and laughing as Ellie teased him about thinking he would have been the least likely to want to follow his father into SAMCRO, being the runt of the litter and all.

"The Club was my _only_ career plan ever since I could remember. That pissed my mom off to no end and she blamed by old man for it. She never said it, but I know she hoped that being sickly would keep me from patching in. I can't tell you how glad I am that I outgrew that shit 'cause there was no Plan B for me." Tiki related.

"I'm kinda glad you outgrew that shit, too." Ellie looked at Tiki from the corner of her eye and smiled as Tiki laughed.

"What about you, Little One?" Tiki asked as he pushed his hair away from his face. "What's your Plan A?"

Ellie looked up at the star-studded sky and sighed. "I don't have a Plan A. All I know for sure—and Aunt Jo would kill me if she heard—is that college is not a part of that plan, whatever it is."

"Yeah, Jolene would kill ya," Tiki chuckled. "She's all about the education. Twisted my ear real good when I dropped out of high school."

"And I understand where she's coming from," Ellie started. "She wants me to experience life outside Charming. I think she's afraid I'll get too comfortable with small town life and end up married with children before I'm twenty."

"What's wrong with being somebody's old lady as your Plan A?" Tiki teased, a flirty glint in his hazel eyes.

"Nothing," Ellie giggled a little self-consciously. "It's definitely a part of my Plan A, but not until after I decide what I'm gonna do with my life."

"So you're not seeing anyone special right now?" Tiki tried to ask casually, as if her answer would have no effect on him either way.

 _I'm looking at him right now_ , Ellie thought, wanting to say it so badly she could almost taste the words in her mouth.

Instead, Ellie shook her head and said, "I'm no longer in a rush to hook up with just anybody. Chip taught me a hard lesson."

Tiki furrowed his brow, the thought of that creep breaking Ellie's heart pissing him off. "That asshole hasn't tried reaching out to you, has he?"

She quickly shook her head. "No, I think he has enough brain cells left over to know that's prolly not a good idea." Ellie replied, a little unnerved by the way he was looking at her. Getting the sense that Tiki might be thinking that Ellie was still hung up on Chip, she shook her head and continued. "I don't know what I was thinking hooking up with Chip in the first place. Preppy rich boys aren't really my thing, you know?"

Tiki's mouth curled up into a slight smile as he shook his head. "I'm not really sure I know what your _thing_ is, Little One."

Ellie looked down at her hands in her lap as her heart pounded in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she looked up and into Tiki's eyes. "He's definitely a sweetheart with a sensitive soul. He's loyal and tad bit overprotective, but I like that, and he's a complete bad ass. He's scruffy-looking, but I like that, too. And he looks totally hot in leather."

Tiki suddenly felt his mouth go dry. "You just described about half the guys at the Clubhouse." He teased playfully, hoping the urge to kiss her wasn't plainly obvious on his face.

"No I didn't! Really, Tiki? A sweetheart with a sensitive soul?" Ellie laughed. "In my book, that only describes one and he's the only one that matters to me." She said boldly, her gaze holding his steady.

 _Aw shit! It's definitely time to get her off this mountain before I do something completely stupid_.

Ellie glanced down at the watch on her wrist and gasped. "Oh shit, Tiki! It's almost midnight." She stood. "You really should get me home. I don't want you getting into trouble."

 _Too late, Little One. I'm already ass-deep in trouble_ , Tiki thought as he took in her beautiful thick sable-colored hair and her big luminous eyes.

"Let's go then."

And so Tiki made haste getting his charge back to Charming.

As they rode up her street, Tiki was a little too quick in patting himself on the back. He was somewhat proud of the fact that he had managed to control himself, even though it had gotten a little iffy there towards the end. It never occurred to him, however, that he would only be truly safe once he got back to the Clubhouse. Walking Ellie to her front door still kept him in her orbit, a dangerous place to be with all sorts of thoughts running through his head.

"Mary home?" He asked as Ellie used her keys to open the door of the still and silent house.

"Nope. Tonight's Mahjong night and, according to Grand, the real action starts after midnight. She won't be home for a while." Ellie replied, looking up at Tiki. "Wanna come in? Have a beer before you go?"

 _That would be the wrong thing to do right now_ , he tried to convince himself, his fingers itching to tangle themselves in her windblown hair.

"Nah, I better get going." He replied. "I'm glad you suggested taking that ride. I had a good time."

Ellie moistened her lips, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the young biker. "I did, too." She said softly. "Maybe we can do it again. I'd love to see the sunset from up there."

Looking into her eyes, Tiki could read his own desire to spend more time together reflected right back at him. The last thing he should be doing was playing with fire, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"And I'd love to be the one to show it to you, Little One." He smiled. Bending down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, Tiki was completely unprepared when, at the last second, Ellie raised her lips to meet his.

Instead of pulling away like he knew he should, Tiki's hands found themselves buried in her soft hair. Showing some restraint, Tiki was able to keep their kiss light and feathery, which frustrated Ellie. Snaking her arms around his lean waist, she pulled him closer, the tip of her tongue shyly brushing against his full lips. She heard him groan and almost grinned, but was unable to with a mouth suddenly full of hot biker tongue.

With his grip in her hair tightening, Tiki held her steady as his mouth vetoed his brain and he was kissing her like nothing else in the world mattered. Not prepared for the shock of electricity that ran through her, Ellie whimpered, her fingers digging into the skin of his back under his t-shirt as Tiki deepened their kiss even further.

The young couple lost themselves in their embrace. Teasing as Tiki nipped at her lips and licking as their tongues danced against each other. Groaning from the sheer mutual pleasure they were enjoying as they tasted and truly felt each other through the hunger of their kiss, they never heard the car pull into the driveway. Or the step-thump sounds of a person making their way up the walk.

"Jesus Christ, young lady?! Is this what you get up to when I'm not around?!" Mary scolded angrily as the couple jumped and pulled apart, as if someone had dumped a pail of cold water on them.

Tiki ran a hand over his mouth and down the whiskers on his chin as he noted that Piney Winston's widow might have been yelling at Ellie, but she was giving him a death glare. "Uh, hey, Mary." He started casually, this not being the first time he'd been caught with his pants down, so to speak. "I wanted to make sure Ellie got inside safely after giving her a lift home from Tina's."

Mary crossed her arms, her walking cane hanging from her elbow. "Uh-huh. From here, it looked like you were giving my granddaughter more than a 'lift'."

"Grand, please!" Ellie exclaimed, mortified.

"Don't 'Grand' me and get your ass in the house," Mary shot back. " _Now_."

Tiki watched as Ellie meekly walked inside, flashing him a forlorn look over her shoulder. Leaving the door open, no one saw her slip behind it so she could listen to the ass-reaming Mary was about to lay on Tiki.

Ellie cringed as she heard her grandmother take off, not mincing words. "Are you messing around with my granddaughter?!"

"It's not what it looks like, Mary—"

"Like I ain't never heard that shit before." Mary said exasperated. "I'm old, not blind or senile. I know what I saw and I remember what it's like to be on the receiving end of biker charm, too, but Ellie's not no damn sweetbutt."

"It's not like that, Mary," Tiki said, his voice low. "Ellie's very special to me and I'm not looking to hurt her that way."

Ellie almost felt her legs give way at Tiki's heartfelt comment.

"Really? And I should just believe you're being sincere and all because you're an honest man and a biker?"

Tiki shrugged his shoulders. "I'll cop to being a biker," He gave her a cheeky grin. "I can't claim to be an honest man, but I am sincere when it comes to the people I care about. I would never treat Ellie badly, Mary. Can't say I wouldn't beat the douche bag who tried within an inch of his life because I already did. Doesn't that count in my favor?"

"Maybe." Mary narrowed her eyes at the young biker. "Maybe not. I can say this, though," She tapped her fingers on her arms. "You remind me a lot of your old man Bobby Elvis."

Tiki raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure where you're going with this, Mary. Is that good or bad?"

Mary tossed her head back and laughed heartily. "Being like your old man goes a long way in this situation. I've always liked Bobby. He's quite the gentleman, even though you get enough drinks in him and he can be a bit of a hound dog, but show me a man who ain't." Mary sighed and leaned on her cane. "I'm only going to ask this once, so you better be paying attention."

"I'm listening."

"Are you planning on punching that girl's v-card before she's 18?"

"Oh my Gawd, Grand!" Ellie hissed quietly through clenched teeth. Her cheeks flaming red, she nearly sank to the floor in embarrassment.

Taken a little by surprise, Tiki smirked. "Well, nobody can claim that you're not direct, huh?"

Mary shook her head. "Don't believe in beating around the bush if I wanna know something. Well?"

"I wasn't planning on it," Tiki replied calmly and looked at her coolly. " _Yet_ , but eighteen sounds about right."

 _Hot Damn!_ Ellie felt her legs give out as she fell on the floor.

Mary nodded and grinned. "Spunky bastard, ain't ya?"

Tiki grinned back and Mary could suddenly see why her granddaughter turned to goo at the mere mention of the young man. "So I've been told."

"Skedaddle then, it's getting late. I just wanted to make sure we all know where we stand." Mary said airily as she stepped inside and paused on the threshold. "I'm sure Ope will be very happy to hear that as well." She smiled wickedly and watched the color drain out of the young biker's face as she closed the door.

Looking down at her shocked granddaughter, splayed out on the floor as she leaned against the wall, Mary grinned, heading to her room. "Don't forget to turn off the porch light, dear."


	24. Everyone You Love is Bad

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

"It wasn't a mistake, Mom. I was in and out in like two minutes, I swear." Abel said, the apprehension in his eyes in direct contrast to his calm demeanor. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"It is not for you to know what the deal is!" Jolene shot back, her hands on her hips as she angled her head to meet her own fierce green eyes looking back at her. "The point is you disobeyed me. I don't do it often, Abel, but when I give you a direct order, I expect to be obeyed."

Dealing with testosterone-filled young men was nothing new for Jolene Teller. Not only did she have nine years of time served under her belt as a math teacher at Charming Excelsior Prep, but after spending a lifetime on the T-M lot, Jolene had a knack for dealing with the opposite sex. It had certainly prepared her for marriage to a hard-headed biker. Apparently, however, all bets were off when it came to dealing with a son who, on the brink of manhood, was just like his old man.

 _And here I thought they had broken the fuckin' mold when they made Jax Teller_ , Jolene thought grimly as she observed the younger-looking version of her old man. Abel had not fallen far from his daddy's tree and in spite of the love and overwhelming respect he had for his mother, Abel was willful and stubborn and, at the moment, not inclined to give way to his mother's fussing.

 _And it doesn't help that he's tall enough to see the top of my head_ , Jolene thought as she shook her head. _If he thinks he's running shit with me, he needs to take a few lessons from his father, who knows better than to get involved in old lady business_.

The showdown between mother and son had unexpectedly exploded in the kitchen, where Jolene had found Abel scarfing down one of Neeta's mammoth-sized roast beef sandwiches. The teenager had recently hit a growth spurt and with it came an insatiable appetite. He was in the middle of thoroughly enjoying his pre-dinner snack as he hung out with Neeta, who had been spoiling the boy rotten since Jolene had returned to Charming with Jax's little bundle of joy, when the ballistic missile that was his mother came bursting in on them. The only advance warning to the impending Apocalypse had been her screeching tires skidding in the driveway announcing her earlier-than-usual presence.

"Shit," Abel said around a mouthful of succulent beef and spicy horseradish dressing. "Sounds like Mom's on a tear."

Shaking her head, Neeta set another tall glass of milk in front of Abel. "I'm hoping for your sake that you're not the one who sent her there. It's been a pleasant day so far."

However, all of Neeta's hopes were quickly dashed to pieces as soon as Jolene marched in and threw her handbag down on the dining room table with a loud thump.

"Have you been by Fawn's salon lately? I thought I told you to stay away from that part of town." The SAMCRO Queen nearly barked as she focused a grim pair of angry eyes on her somewhat surprised son.

Putting his sandwich down, Abel slowly rose to his feet as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, hiding a slight grimace as he noted his mother's ire.

Although it didn't happen often, especially in front of Abel or his siblings, whenever his mother tore a strip off his father, his old man never took it sitting down. As dainty and girlie as she was, his mother was also something fierce when she was pissed. In fact, she was downright intimidating and even a little scary. So just like his father, Abel was finding now that he had a slight height advantage over his mother, it was best to use it whenever it looked like she wanted to kick his ass.

"Yeah, I remember us having that conversation." He replied.

"Oh, good," Jolene started with forced levity. "So I guess that means that Cissy Lincoln made a mistake. See, I ran into her as I was leaving the bank and she told me that she saw someone that looked very much like you going into the salon two nights ago."

 _Shit! That old biddy did spot me after all_.

Cissy was Lincoln's old lady. Married to the Club patch for nearly 35 years, Cissy was very much a part of the old lady gossip mill despite the fact that her husband had passed away 10 years ago. Always present at every SAMCRO function, she could be counted on to hear, know, and/or spread whatever gossip was to be had about the Club and its members, especially those who sat at the table and their families. In spite of his young age, Abel was a Teller, making him a prime target for idle gossip. That, coupled with rumors that the salon's newest partner was the town pariah despite an unknown connection to SAMCRO, made spotting the Club President's eldest son paying her a visit a juicy piece of scandal. Unfortunately for Abel, the woman who suffered from glaucoma in her left eye still had 20/20 vision when it came to gathering Intel to drop in the SAMCRO Queen's ear.

Abel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and eyed his mother. The love and respect he had for his mother was immense and knew no bounds. As far as Abel was concerned, he had the fiercest old lady on the planet as his mother. Nothing got under Jolene Teller's skin, not even being kidnapped and having to kill two people in self-defense in order to save him and herself when he was eight years old.

What had him worried now was not so much the fact that she was angry. She had justifiably been angry at him before and even then it was no big deal as things went. Usually flashing the patented Teller smile was enough to get him out of any minor trouble he was in. However, it was the anxious vibe he was reading from her and the fear reflected in his mother's eyes that had Abel a little worried.

"It wasn't a mistake, Mom. I was in and out in like two minutes, I swear. I don't see what the big deal is."

Neeta stood by and watched as the 'discussion' quickly escalated into a full blown argument. Knowing the reason for the deep-seated fear behind Jolene's anger didn't make it any easier to watch. But it was Abel's next words that made both women freeze in their tracks.

"Damn it, Mom! I'm the one who should be upset with you! It's obvious you're hiding shit from me." Abel shouted, his voice ringing throughout the room. "I'm not stupid, you know. I know you haven't been yourself lately and did you really think Maddy wouldn't tell me what she overheard? If the woman down at Fawn's salon is our grandmother, I think we fuckin' have a right to know!"

"That is not something you get to decide, Abel." Jolene said adamantly. "None of this concerns you!"

Abel was incredulous. "That's bullshit, Mom. I trust you with everything and I would never lie to you, so you keeping something like this from me really sucks. Please, just tell me what's going on."

"This doesn't concern you, Abel!" Jolene repeated angrily.

"Then we're done talking, Mom." He stormed out of the kitchen and out the front door, despite his mother's calls for him to come back.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day you disappointed that boy." Neeta said dryly as Jolene turned to glare at her. "Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. Since the day I met that child, he's had nothing but stars in his eyes for his momma."

"That's so not fair, Neeta," Jolene started with tears in her eyes. "You know why I can't tell him what he wants to know."

Neeta watched as the young woman threw herself down in a chair at the table. Jolene suddenly covered her face with her hands as her shoulders shuddered. The older woman quickly went to her side to wrap a comforting arm around her as Jolene let go of the angry tears she had been holding onto with all of her might.

Neeta's head jerked as she thought she heard the front door open and close, hoping Abel had returned to talk to his mother. When that didn't happen, she reached over and grabbed several paper napkins on the table and handed them to Jolene. Taking them without comment, she blew her nose furiously, finally managing to get her scattered emotions under control.

"Better?" Neeta asked quietly.

Jolene nodded, looking at her friend who was now sitting across from her at the table. "What do I do now? He knows, Neeta."

"Abel doesn't know shit, except the fact that there's a woman walking around town wearing your face." Neeta said simply. "The only way he should know more is if _you_ tell him."

"What?!"

"Now hear me out for one damn second." Neeta admonished. "With Tina living and working right here in Charming, how long do you really think you can keep this from your children?"

Jolene gave Neeta a defiant look. "Forever and I still intend to—"

"Well, good luck with that mess," Neeta said derisively. "Because, between Maddy's eavesdropping and Abel's keen observation skills and ability to sense when shit is off with his mother, you're gonna need it. Hell, give TJ a minute and the little cuss will figure it out, too."

Horrified, Jolene looked at Neeta with wide eyes. "What would you have me do, Neeta? Tell Abel the truth about _Tina_?"

"Honey, I know this cannot be easy for you, but it's better if it comes from you than from Cissy Lincoln-types ready to fill his head with malicious gossip disguised as half-truths." Neeta reasoned as she reached for the younger woman's hand.

Jolene ran her free hand through her hair, thinking about her conversation with Cissy. She was sure the woman didn't know the whole story, but it was obvious that Cissy knew enough to know that catching Abel going into the salon would net the young man a whole world of trouble. Cissy nearly broke her neck tripping over her yippy little dog trying to catch Jolene as she headed for her car. Jolene was sure she had felt the color drain from her face when Cissy, not bothering with pleasantries, immediately cut to the chase and dropped the dime on Abel. She was sure that Cissy had noticed that as well, judging by the barely-hidden smug look on her craggy face.

 _Snitches aren't the only ones who should get stitches_ , Jolene thought angrily. _Snitchin' bitches best look out as well_.

Not wanting to really acknowledge the possibility that a small grain of truth could be found behind Neeta's reasoning, Jolene grimaced, her nostrils flaring in a fair imitation of her old man. "My family wouldn't be fodder for gossips like Cissy Lincoln if Fawn hadn't brought _that_ woman to Charming in the first place."

Neeta dramatically threw her head back and rolled her eyes. "You back on that shit again? How long are you planning on beating that poor dead redheaded horse?"

"As long as I damn well please!" Jolene replied insolently. "As far as I was concerned, my past outside of Charming was dead. I shouldn't be dealing with this shit at all."

"And I agree with you, baby girl—"

"Finally! I was wondering when you were going to get on my side."

"Oh, hold on now. Don't go getting your thong all twisted. Since day one, right or wrong, I have _always_ been on your side, but losing your shit with Abel over this is as wrong as it gets. I know he disobeyed you, honey, but yelling at my baby for shit that is not of his making was unfair and you know that."

Jolene sighed as she shook her head. "I'm just trying to protect my babies. Why am I the bad one?"

"Jolene Teller, you know better than that. You are not the bad one, baby girl." Neeta scolded. "No one in this house or in this family would ever condone any of the shit that woman put you through as a child and if keeping her at bay is what you want to do, you have every right in the world—"

"But," Jolene started sarcastically. "I would be better off letting go of the past and moving ahead with the present, right?"

"I have no way of knowing that, Jolene. I can only speak from experience, but I do know that for me it's been much easier living with the weight of forgiveness on my heart than with the burden of a grudge on my back."

Jolene chuckled bitterly. "If forgiveness is what she's looking for, I have none to give. That woman doesn't deserve it."

"You're absolutely right. That woman—Valentina Robles doesn't deserve shit from you." Neeta agreed. "But you're not dealing with Valentina anymore. Even your own father, who loves you more than anything in this world, says that Tina is not the woman she used to be."

"Fuck that," Jolene returned. "I'm not drinking the Tina-is-Good Kool-Aid. I've been burned by that woman too many times. Evil will always be evil."

Neeta nodded sadly. "I see. A woman who has done so much bad, caused so much pain can never be redeemed from her mistakes."

"Exactly."

"If your reasoning is sound, baby girl, I should be doing hard time instead of sitting here with you at your kitchen table. The day I was paroled, they should have just given my ass a one-way ticket back to the Central California Women's Facility in Chowchilla, right? Or did you forget that bump in the road that is my past?"

Jolene's eyes were wide as she grabbed both of Neeta's hands and squeezed. "Neeta, that's different. I have always known you to be nothing but caring and loving, a bit bossy, but always _good_. Chowchilla was a long time ago."

"It was, wasn't it?" Neeta smiled. "You were barely 13 when I started working for Gemma, after paying my debt to society. It took nine long years on the inside to change everything that was bad about me. I was young and angry—a bad combination from the word _go_. I was petty, vindictive, and selfish. Didn't care who I hurt or why. I thought myself a bad ass, but I was just a stubborn bitch who had to learn shit the hard and ugly way."

Neeta sighed as she looked Jolene in the eye. "I wasn't innocent, Jolene. I didn't go to Chowchilla for selling Girl Scout cookies. I did some serious shit that I'm not proud of. Nobody put me there. It took almost a decade of hard time, but I finally learned to accept that I was there because of what _I_ had done. Once I accepted that, I stopped fighting the shit I couldn't control and worked on the things I could, namely myself. I _had_ to change. I couldn't continue living as my own worst enemy—being _that_ woman that you never would have trusted to take care of your children. I had to learn to first love myself before I could love anyone else. Then I had to forgive myself and move forward. The person I was back then exists only in mug shots now. I think Tina and I have a lot in common that way."

For a long moment, Jolene looked at the calm woman sitting at her table and truly didn't know what to say.

"I've only met Tina Giamatti in passing," Neeta continued. "But I already know that she's not Valentina Robles. She _can't_ be and still have Fawn love her the way she does. Changing who we are is not easy. I can attest to that, but neither is living with such anger and hatred. You have a beautiful life, Jolene. An old man that worships the ground you walk on, three gorgeous and healthy babies, and an extended family that adores you, but I'm seeing that anger and hate that you've buried down so deep a long time ago start to resurface. You don't want that bitterness seeping into your beautiful life, baby girl."

"So what am I supposed to do? _Forgive_ her? Let bygones be bygones?" Jolene asked darkly.

"For the sake of your children? Yes." Neeta replied simply as Jolene smirked in disgust. "As a mother, you have done your job too well. You and your old man have raised your children to have more than just a bit of sense about them. They are more than capable of figuring out if people are genuine or not. Before today, I would have said they are just like their momma because the Jolene Teller I know doesn't have a self-righteous bone in her body. How could she? Almost everyone she loves is what society has labeled as 'bad'. And thanks to that gossipy old chicken head Cissy, you're gonna have to accept that the truth always seeks the light. If you don't want the opinions of others coloring how your children see you in relation to your past, then you be the one to tell them about it."

Neeta almost let herself smile as she noticed the suddenly contrite countenance of her friend. "And stop busting my baby's chops because he has an interest in getting to know his kin. After all, you were the one who taught him family first, family always. Besides, you're practically her spitting image. If Maddy sees her, she's gonna know Tina's her grandmother, too. Oh, wait a minute. I forgot that the little pitcher with HUGE ears already figured that shit out."

Spurred on by the slight smile on Jolene's face, Neeta decided to take it all the way and tackle what she felt was at the heart of Jolene's anger and pain. "And while you're at it, you have to stop hating Fawn because she got to enjoy a relationship with Tina that should have been yours."

What Neeta should have done was leave well-enough alone.

Fuming once again, Jolene leapt up from her chair, slamming it backwards onto the floor, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Neeta sighed. "Damn it, gurl! When are you gonna learn to pull back a little?" She berated herself as she got up to return the fallen chair back to its upright position. Picking up the remains of Abel's snack, she dumped the food into the garbage disposal and turned on the water in the sink to wash the dishes before she got started on the laundry.

With the water running as she hummed to herself, Neeta never heard the footsteps approach until a pair of well-muscled and powerful arms wrapped around her from behind. Giving a little screech of fright, Neeta turned her head to see the moist blue eyes of Jax Teller. Bending towards her, he tenderly kissed her cheek.

"Thanks, Neeta." He said with a smile before turning away and heading upstairs to comfort his old lady as Neeta watched, her face suddenly warm as the temperature in the room rose.

* * *

Jax paused in the doorway as he watched his old lady angrily pace back and forth. She was barefoot and wearing a path in the plush carpet as she muttered obscenities under her breath. Jax quirked an eyebrow as he heard a particularly foul curse involving horse genitals and somebody's momma. The more descriptive she became, the clearer it was to Jax that she was really hurting inside.

The SAMCRO Prez had known that a lot of old wounds would be ripped open the moment he heard that his wife's birth mother had blown into town. Over the years, Jolene had put up a good front, never discussing her childhood in Seattle and treating it as if it were an insignificant part of her life. Over the last couple of weeks, Jolene had surprised everyone by how quickly she had seemingly accepted the fact that not only was her egg donor in Charming, but living in the Tellers' former home as well.

She was quite gifted at putting up a façade that everything was alright in her world even if the exact opposite was true and was, in fact, falling apart. During his tenure as Club President, Jax had depended on that facet of her personality more than once. No matter how bad shit got—blowbacks resulting in deaths, Fed raids, arrests and incarceration—Jolene always managed to keep shit together, easing his mind and making it easier for him to take care of business, whether at home or away.

After overhearing her conversation with Neeta regarding Abel's clandestine visit to the woman who was his maternal grandmother, it was clear to Jax that his old lady was at her breaking point. She was in pain and he understood that. She was also in danger of hurting the ones she loved the most, and Jax understood that as well. He had been there and done all of the above, hurting the one he loved the most in this world, Jolene herself. He was determined to keep her from knowing what that felt like.

"Hey, darlin'," He said quietly. At the sound of his voice, Jolene felt a vise loosen from around her heart as she whirled around to face him, her hands balled up into small fists at her side. She was blinking rapidly, trying to disguise the fact that she had been crying. It didn't make a difference as her swollen red-rimmed eyes were already tugging at his heart. "Come here, baby." Jax whispered and suddenly found himself with an armful of upset woman as Jolene practically leapt into his outstretched arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

Kicking the door shut behind him, Jax walked over to their bed and gently laid her down. With her death grip holding him tight, Jax rested on his side, not wanting to crush her underneath his weight. He did his best to soothe and comfort his wife as she unleashed whatever pent up emotions she had left into the crook of his neck.

After nearly ten minutes, as she started winding down, Jax reached into his back pocket and pulled out a clean bandana. With his elbow propping him up, Jax used his free hand to mop up the worst of her tears.

Placing a soft kiss on one of her fluttering eyelids, Jax gently pushed her hair away from her face. "Better?" He asked, dropping another kiss on her flushed and tear-stained cheek.

Jolene nodded as she blew her nose, finally getting herself under control. "I'm always better when you're here."

Jax smiled as he sat up slightly and helped her out of her sweater, leaving the tank she wore underneath. "It's been a shit-kind-of-a-day for you, huh?"

Jolene nodded again as she sighed. "Thanks to _your_ son."

Jax chuckled as he nuzzled her neck. "Sure, he's _my_ son when he pisses you off." He teased.

"Like father, like son."

"Uh-huh. Well, he looked quite upset as he stormed out of the house. Wouldn't even stop to talk to me." Jax offered as Jolene pulled back to look him in the face. "I'm sure he regrets disobeying you even though he has no idea why you're so upset."

Jolene practically pushed Jax away as she scrambled to sit up. "You KNEW he went to see Valentina?!"

Jax put his hands up in the air as if surrendering. "Whoa, babe, don't go shooting my ass with my own gun just yet. I overheard you talking with Neeta just now."

"What the fuck, Jax?!" She crossed her arms under her impressive chest—momentarily distracting Jax—as she glared at him. "And you wonder where Maddy gets it from?"

"Look," Jax sat up and faced his wife. "I don't normally make it a point of eavesdropping. That's more Gemma's gig, but I'm glad I did, darlin'. A lot of what Neeta had to say needed to be said."

Jolene dropped her chin to her chest and shook her head. "Gemma's the only one that understands." She said mostly to herself.

Jax grabbed her by the shoulders and gently shook her, forcing Jolene to look up at him. "Jo, you've known me since we were kids. You know me better than my own mother ever could and you know I'm not the type that just lets shit go. It's not how I'm wired, baby, _especially_ when it comes to you. Nothing says undying love like killing a federal agent because that's how far I'm willing to take it in order to protect you and my family. You have no idea how much I want to make this shit go away for you, but—"

"But what?"

"But getting rid of your egg donor is not gonna make the pain go away, darlin'. You can't erase the abuse you suffered as a kid, but along with the good, it shaped you into the woman you are today and I fuckin' love that woman." Jax said vehemently as Jolene swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "You have to find a way to wrap up all of this unfinished business you have with Valentina. It's the only way you'll ever let go of the anger and rage you still carry around with you. You are an amazing mom, Jo but this shit is affecting not just you but your relationship with the kids and I hate it. Blowing up first at Maddy, then Abel, that's not you, babe."

Truly ashamed of herself, Jolene jumped off the bed, turning her back on Jax as she cried. Standing up, Jax stepped in front of her and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," She cried softly into Jax's kutte.

"I know you are, darlin'," Jax soothed her. "Maddy and Abel know, too. They just don't understand where the anger and rage is coming from. They probably blame themselves, like I'm sure you did as a kid, not understanding what you could've done to deserve your mother's wrath."

"Oh my God, Jax!" Jolene tried pulling away from him, but he held on tight. "I am NOT my mother!"

"No, you're not."

Wrapped in Jax's protective embrace, Jolene shuddered. He was right. As a child, she wondered, even after coming to Charming, what she could have done to inspire such rage and anger in her mother. What had she done to deserve the spankings, the smacks in the face? Why had she been forced to live in a closet, getting food maybe once or twice a week?

"I did blame myself," Jolene almost whispered, her face pressed against Jax's chest. "I thought I was unlovable. Even after I came to Charming, I lived in fear that Dad would come to the same conclusion and send me away, like she did." Jax rubbed her back as Jolene continued. "What tears me up inside is remembering that at one time I did love her. And I remember her loving me, too. I must have been around four, but I remember thinking how pretty she was and how much fun she was, until the day it all changed and I don't know why."

Jax felt his heart tighten. As much as they had shared with each other over the years, Jolene had never mentioned remembering life before the abuse started. And he certainly never heard her say that she had loved her mother at one time. Hearing that went a long way in explaining why her hatred for Valentina ran so deep. To have that love snatched away so abruptly, for reasons an extremely young little girl couldn't understand, must have been more devastating than suffering abuse from day one.

"Why did she stop loving me, Jax?"

"I don't know, darlin'," He whispered into her hair. "I can't imagine that ever happening because I will love you forever, even after I'm dead." Jax felt Jolene squeeze him tightly around the waist. "I do know that she's sober and, from what I've heard, truly remorseful. Maybe now's the time to ask her yourself. It might help in letting go of all the anger and pain."

Jolene pulled away and looked at Jax with defiance flashing in her seafoam green eyes. "You think I should forgive her." The way she said it sounded like an accusation to Jax.

"Doesn't matter what I think, babe." Jax shook his head. "Doesn't matter what Clay, Bobby or Gemma think either. You're the only one with the power to do that and I think Neeta was right. Exercising the power to forgive can be liberating. Sometimes it makes letting shit go possible."

"I don't see myself ever letting go of that shit." Jolene replied sadly.

Jax cupped her face. "I know it's hard, Jo, but with Abel sniffing around, you might have to. Neeta's right. Eventually, Abel is going to ask the wrong person the right questions and you won't be able to control what he might find out then. You can keep that from happening by telling him yourself."

"Do you know how devastating that would be for me?" Jolene asked, her eyes wide.

"You don't have to give him full disclosure, darlin'. Right now, all he wants to know is who this woman is." Jax replied. "The only thing that matters to me is that you find some way to make peace with this. After you do that, it's up to you to decide how you want to move ahead and I'll back you every step of the way."

Jolene wiped away the remnants of her tears and quirked an eyebrow at Jax. "Even if I still want her dead?"

Jax tried not to smile. _She's serious_.

And so was he. "Just give me the word, babe."

* * *

Getting to the warehouse a little after dawn, it was already a long day for Tig by the time early afternoon rolled around. He was tired and worn out and just a little annoyed that Opie had made a detour to the salon on their way back to the Clubhouse. He couldn't really blame the man; after all, Fawn was a Trager and had apparently inherited from her old man the skills to drive the opposite sex crazy. Tig couldn't help but feel a bit of pride in his kid because whatever she had going on was enough to make the SAMCRO VP go bat-shit crazy over the thought of losing it.

 _Let's face it. There's just no going back to plain vanilla once they get a taste of Trager_ , Tig thought smugly as he and Opie cruised down Main Street, heading to the salon.

Tig had been on an unexpected run with Happy to Bakersfield and San Diego for Unser Trucking when shit had gone sideways for Fawn. _Again_. As he soon found out from Tiki, Fawn's shop had paid the ultimate price when Opie didn't take too kindly to having a former boyfriend turn up unannounced and ready to re-stake a claim. Fortunately, shit had worked itself out before he had to go rescue his kid from the bottom of an empty bottle of booze.

To Tig, women had always been a beautiful enigma wrapped in a riddle surrounded by a mystery, especially his own daughter, and he was as far as one could get from being an expert on relationships. But as he watched Opie thoroughly enjoy the warm greeting Fawn laid on him the moment he stepped into the shop, it was clear even to Tig that their relationship had reached another level while he had been away. It was evident that they needed each other and not just in the physical I-wanna-fuck-your-brains-out sense, even though it was abundantly clear that they were hot for each other. The way they looked at each as they talked, sharing a private moment with Opie's arms wrapped around Fawn, made it clear that they needed each other to be happy.

 _Shit! They're in love_ , Tig smiled to himself. _Finally!_

"Hey, Dad," Fawn greeted Tig, finally released from Opie's possessive hold. "I haven't seen ya since you got back. How are you doing?"

"Great, Fawnzy," Tig smiled at his daughter. "I could use a home cooked meal tonight. What time's good for you?"

Opie chuckled as Fawn made an annoyed sound, one hand on a cocked hip. "Asshole, I haven't seen you in over a week and that's the only greeting I get? _When are you gonna feed my ass?_ "

"Hey," Tig started. "You should be happy. I've been gone nine days and all I could think about was your meatloaf."

Fawn rolled her eyes. "Well, hearing that makes me feel less guilty about having to break the bad news to you. I have other plans tonight."

"Aw, shit, Fawnzy." Tig complained. "What does a man have to do to get fed a decent meal around here?"

"You can come over to my place," Tina said casually from behind reception where she was covering for Marcy during her lunch hour. "Fawn and I were gonna have a girls night in. I'm not making meatloaf, but you're welcomed to join us."

"Fuck!" Fawn hissed as she turned to face Opie. "I'm sorry, baby. I forgot I had made plans with Tina tonight."

"Something come up?" Tina asked as she approached the group.

"I managed to convince Jax to cut me loose for a few of days," Opie started. "I wanted to take Fawn on a ride up the coast, maybe layover in Crescent City for a bit."

"Sounds romantic," Tina smiled. "Go ahead, sweetie. I'll give you a rain check." She said to Fawn.

Fawn ran her hand through her loose hair. "Are you sure? I feel bad bailing on you at the last minute." Since Max had blown through town, she and Opie had been spending all of their free time together. Poor Tina was practically a recluse in her own home when she wasn't down at the shop and it had been Fawn's idea that they spend some quality time together.

"Are you kidding me? Your man wants to take you away from all this for a few days." Tina indicated the construction chaos around them. "You say no, I might bail on you and join Opie myself." She teased.

"Girls night as soon as I get back, I promise." Fawn gave her friend a quick squeeze. "Talk to Ellie. Maybe she can join you for dinner and a movie in Lodi tonight."

"Hey, hey!" Tig spoke up. "Just 'cause you got plans don't mean I'm not still available. I believe Tina invited me over for dinner, too."

Fawn's eyes widened. "Uh, Dad, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Tina queried as Tig flashed his daughter a look that told her to stop her cock-blocking or else. "I already went shopping for tonight and I have a ton of food waiting to be eaten. Besides, it'll give Tig and me the chance to talk smack about you behind your back."

"So there!" Tig said, sticking his tongue out at Fawn like a petulant child.

Roughly grabbing her father by his kutte, Fawn pulled him close. "She's my best friend," She whispered into his ear. "On your best behavior or I never make meatloaf again."

* * *

Timing, as they say, is everything. Although Tig had been cranky and exhausted, stopping by the salon and trying to mooch a meal from his kid had paid off in spades. And all because Opie couldn't go half a day without pawing Fawn. Even though he preferred not bearing witness to the shit those two got up to, Tig wasn't about to complain because his outlook on the rest of the day had improved dramatically with Tina's invitation to dinner.

_And screw Fawn and her threat of no more meatloaf. If Tina's pussy is on the menu for dessert, who am I to pass that shit up?_

As anxious as Tig was for seven o'clock to roll around, there was a helluva long while to go before dinnertime, so Opie and the SAA headed back to the Clubhouse to give Jax an update on the assembly of their latest shipment of AKs. Jax already had a buyer lined up that was willing to take the whole lot off their hands for $250,000 and he wanted to go over the details for the next delivery run.

After shooting the shit with his Prez and getting the run-down of his duties while the VP was away for a few days, Tig had dragged a couple of sweetbutts back to his dorm and fucked them both just short of death. Telling them to get the hell out afterward, Tig collapsed onto his bed for a much-needed nap. Looking forward to what Tina promised would be a stick-to-the-ribs meal, Tig woke up with enough time to take a long shower and shave before jumping into a clean pair of black jeans—commando, of course—and a snug fitting black t-shirt.

Throwing on his kutte as he passed the bar, Tig hesitated for a moment. For some reason, he felt that he shouldn't show up empty handed, but realizing that bringing anything from the bar was a no-no, he shook off the feeling.

 _It's not like it's a fuckin' date!_ He thought as he made his way out of the Clubhouse and to his bike. Besides, if he had his way, by the end of the night he had a gift in mind for Tina alright. _My big, fat cock!_

Tig laughed to himself as he put on his helmet. "Fawnzy's gonna kill me."

* * *

Tina finished setting the table in the cozy dining room for two and headed back into the kitchen to take the lasagna out of the oven. Her late husband had always been adamant about letting it rest for fifteen minutes before cutting into it. Setting the pan to cool on a trivet on the counter, Tina returned to the oven with a baking sheet packed with homemade Texas toast garlic bread. Having done her grocery shopping with girls' night in mind, Tina had all of Fawn's favorites on hand, including authentic cannolis for dessert and real espresso to go with them.

If she was honest with herself, Tina was a little frustrated by the fact that Fawn wasn't coming over, but only because she had been too quick to extend Tig an invitation to join them as well. With Fawn now on her way to Crescent City for a few days of good loving and relaxation, Tina found herself in a situation she had promised she would avoid at all costs: being alone with Tig Trager. Fawn had made a valiant effort of trying to get her friend out of it by casually suggesting that she and Ellie catch a movie together, but Tig wasn't having it.

At first, the thought of dinner alone with Tig excited her. Soon that excitement turned to dread as Tina realized she would be _alone with Tig_. There had been no graceful way to bow out, so Tina decided to suck it up. She was a woman, after all, not some starry-eyed young girl easily manipulated by the men she surrounded herself with. In her mind, she was having the father of the young woman she loved like a daughter over for dinner. They would probably spend most of the night talking about Fawn anyway.

 _Then why the hell did it take me over two hours to get ready tonight?_ Tina chastised herself, wondering if she had time to change into a pair of jeans and baggy t-shirt.

* * *

With the sweetbutts he had banged earlier a distant memory, Tig could barely hide the fact that he was enamored of Tina. Not that anyone in their right mind would blame him after Tina had greeted him at the door wearing a red jersey wrap dress that clung to every one of her curves and sky-high heels that did amazing things to her shapely legs. With her hair picked up on the sides of her head with decorative hair combs and simple but sultry make-up, she looked sophisticated and totally fuckable all at the same time. Tig swore he was hard from the moment he stepped inside the house.

As promised, dinner had been amazingly delicious. According to Tina, her late husband Frank had taught both her and Fawn the fine art of making comfort food. It was a craft that he had first learned from his own mother and had perfected over time.

Having sold his software company shortly after marrying Tina, Frank took on a new endeavor: spending his free time breeding Italian greyhounds at a kennel in East Seattle and cooking fabulous meals for his new wife. Tina shared with Tig how coming home from work had been the highlight of her day to see what new culinary delight her husband had created.

Frank's lasagna with homemade Bolognese sauce was Fawn's all-time favorite. Fawn, in turn, had adapted one of Frank's meatball recipes and taught him to make her own version of meatloaf, the one Tig swore was better than Gemma's.

Eating and talking and drinking really strong cups of coffee wasn't what Tig would call a typical evening spent with a woman, but he found that he was really enjoying himself. Tina, a woman in her fifties, was gorgeous and didn't look a day over 39. In addition to the eye candy he was being treated to by way of the V-neck of her dress, she was actually fun to talk to. Sitting comfortably on the couch after dinner—and after exhausting Fawn as a topic of conversation—Tina managed to get Tig talking about himself. First she had wanted to know what had drawn him to the MC and soon Tig found himself discussing life as a Marine and then his marriage to Fawn's mother Colleen, casually neglecting to mention the fact that he was still married to the gash.

Tired of hearing himself talk, Tig let the conversation lag. Looking up, Tina couldn't help but smile as she noted the heated look the outlaw biker was throwing her way.

"Like what ya see?" Tina teased, tossing the slightly curled ends of her hair over her shoulder.

"Hell's yeah!" Tig smiled, inching his way across the couch towards Tina.

 _And I am still a total slut for a roughneck_ , Tina thought, a little disappointed in herself.

Tig Trager was a different species of bad boy altogether. She hadn't allowed herself to play with fire like him since she had sobered up. As much fun as she knew it would be letting her freak flag fly with Tig, Tina couldn't let herself go down that road. He was Fawn's father, after all, and she had to respect the fact that her young friend would probably shit a brick if Tina allowed him to lay some pipe. She had already caused too much damage simply by being in Charming.

Putting a well-manicured hand against his nicely muscled chest, Tina stopped Tig from coming any further. "I'm sorry, Tig, but I think we should change the conversation." She said quietly.

Thwarted, Tig's shoulders sagged a little. "It's Fawnzy, ain't it?" He asked and Tina nodded. Sitting back on the couch, Tig sighed as he ran a hand over his face. "How do you do it?"

Tina's brow furrowed, afraid she had upset him to the point of anger by leading him on, but he simply sounded dejected. "Do what?"

Tig shook his head, turning slightly to look Tina in her wide green eyes. "You're smokin' hot, Tina. The thoughts running through my head right now, the shit I would do to you, I'm sure I'm not the only man who thinks this way after meeting you. How do you always manage to end up here, in this house, all alone? Don't you get lonely?"

He wasn't being malicious, but hearing him ask that stung her right in the heart. In spite of the life she had lived when she was younger, Tina was not used to being the town outcast. As a matter of fact, even at her lowest point, she had been the life of the party and always had her choice of male companionship. Living in Charming now for several weeks, if not for Fawn, Opie, and Ellie, she was totally isolated, living the life of an old maid and despised by those that would have been her family had she not screwed up so royally. Yet, if given the choice, she wouldn't leave, she would stay in Charming forever, continuing to do penance until someone cared.

"Of course I get lonely," She replied. "I spend my days at the salon, surrounded by people, and sometimes I don't even want to come home at night if it means being alone."

"Then why? You can snag any guy you want, as long as you put me at the top of that list."

Tina chucked prettily. "I'm a work in progress, Tig. In Seattle, I had my shit together. Here, not so much. Alone is where I need to be right now. No need dragging any more people into the mud pits with me."

Tig shook his head sympathetically. "Look, I know this shit with Doll Face—"

" _Who_?" Tina queried.

"Jolene." Tig replied succinctly. "I know this shit ain't easy, but I really appreciate you sticking around to help Fawnzy. This business means everything to her and anyone who's good to my kid is alright with me. Okay, so you don't wanna mess around right now. I can accept that," He smiled roguishly. "For now, but I'm here for ya, Tina. You don't have to be alone. I'm here if you need someone to talk to, someone to fuck you sideways, take you for a ride on my bike, whatever. I just want you to know that."

Tina couldn't help but laugh at Tig's bluntness. He was a breath of fresh air, just like his daughter. Thinking about the last time she had been riding bitch on the back of a biker's ride put a smile on her face at the thought of wrapping herself around the powerful frame of the outlaw biker. Tina's life had improved dramatically for the better once Fawn had become a part of it.

_Who's to say the same wouldn't happen with Tig?_

* * *

It hadn't been easy sending Tig away, especially after he had honed in on how lonely she was in Charming. Lying in a tub of steaming hot water scented with pink rose petals and bath salts, Tina had contemplated her situation and had come to the reasonable conclusion that it had been the right thing to do. The last thing she needed to do was complicate matters by getting physically involved with Tig. Not only was he Fawn's father, but he was also a part of Jolene's SAMCRO family and a part of the Club's inner-circle.

Aside from not wanting to cause more drama, getting run out of town over a man wasn't worth it—even if it was Tig Trager—simply because she had so much more at stake. Fawn and Lexie needed her here, at least until the salon was up and running and, after illicitly meeting her eldest grandson a few nights ago, Tina was holding onto the hope that someday she would get to meet her other grandchildren as well.

Stepping out of her now lukewarm bath, Tina doused the rose scented candles along the far edge of the oversized tub and used an oversized cotton towel to blot her skin dry before slathering on her favorite rose butter all over her body.

Softly padding her way over to the large walk-in closet, Tina stood in front of the long oval mirror hanging on the inside of the door. Dropping her towel, she examined her naked body with a critical eye as she ran her hands over her flat tummy and feminine hips. She may have changed a lot over the years, but Tina would be the first to admit that she was still as vain as she had been when she was younger. Maybe even more so now that she was pushing 54.

Turning to the side, Tina took a long hard look at her body in profile and finally nodded approvingly at her still-firm and high breasts. Reaching behind with one hand, she slapped her ass and smiled with satisfaction as she noted its firmness.

"That butt buster DVD five times a week is really paying off. I could crack a walnut with my ass." She laughed to herself.

It had taken a lot of time and effort on her part to stem the tide of her fading looks after years of drug and alcohol abuse. Looking back, that had probably been the only time her vanity had worked to her advantage. Growing older and, in her eyes, matronly had spurred her to stay clean. She started dieting and exercising with a vengeance and would even cop to having a little Botox once or twice a year. She wasn't the ravishing beauty she had been thirty years ago before falling in with Heroin, but she hadn't done too bad.

 _Judging by the way Tig was nearly salivating, I haven't done too bad at all_.

It had been thrilling having a sexy and overwhelmingly manly biker to flirt with for a little bit, but she needed to tone it down going forward. Their playful banter back and forth had Tina believing that Tig was not prepared to take no for an answer. Worse yet, she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on saying no.

Grabbing a pair of lounging pajamas from one of several cubbyholes in the closet, Tina threw them on and started her nightly face regimen as she sat on the low bench in front of the large vanity mirror. Having used a liberal amount of the green face cream touted to stop wrinkles in their tracks and renew aging skin with a healthy youthful glow, she was about to bed down to reread for the umpteenth time _50 Shades of Gray_ when she heard the doorbell ring.

Tina rolled her eyes. It had been a couple of hours since she had shooed Tig home. Although she hadn't heard a bike pull into the driveway, the last thing she wanted to deal with was a potentially drunk and very much likely still horny biker. Instead of wiping the green goo off her face, Tina decided to leave it on. If she hadn't been successful in putting him off gently, then she was just going to have to scare the bejeezus out of him!

Sticking her feet into the furry and oversized slippers fashioned to look like a pair of cougars—a gag gift from Fawn—Tina made her way to the front door. Flipping on the porch light and making sure the security chain was properly secured, Tina cracked open the door. Afraid she was going to pass out from the sheer shock, Tina gripped the door handle until her knuckles were stretched white.

Expecting Tig Trager, Tina was just not prepared to find a grim-faced Jolene Teller standing on her doorstep.


	25. All I Am I Owe to My Mother

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Jolene was Clay Morrow's daughter through and through. Although she wasn't a patched member of the Club, and had never wanted to be one, she had all the instincts of one. Her old man Jax was a strategist by nature and the smartest man she knew. From both men she learned that in order to gain an advantage over an adversary, it was always best to deal with them from a position of strength, never allowing a crack in their armor to be seen.

In any confrontation, according to her father, it was always best to have home court advantage. That was something she lacked when she had been ripped from her family and sent to Seattle to live with the woman who had given her life. In Seattle, it had been Valentina who had the advantage.

But now, Valentina was in Charming and the SAMCRO Queen was in her element. Knowing that there was no way she would allow this woman into her home under the same roof as her children so they could witness the shit storm she was about to unleash on her, Jolene changed strategy. Catching her by surprise, Valentina wouldn't have the chance to prepare a line of bullshit lies and excuses to try and ram down her throat. Jolene didn't want her to justify her despicable actions. All she wanted to know was _why_.

Nothing Valentina had to say would melt the stone cold bitch Jolene was prepared to be. There was no way for this woman to worm her way into finding some sympathy because Jolene had none to give.

_I'm just here because I have unfinished business to attend to once and for all._

Glad she had chosen the dead of night to come calling, Jolene grinned inwardly as she noted her egg donor's state of undress and the shock reflected in the green eyes that matched her own.

"Are you going to keep my ass standing on the doorstep all fuckin' night?" Jolene said quietly.

 _Holy shit! Talk about déjà vu_ , Tina thought with some consternation _. She even sounds like Clay._

Unable to form a verbal reply with the large lump in her throat nearly choking her, Tina closed the door to remove the chain. Taking a deep breath, she managed to pull the door open wide enough for her daughter to stride through with a totally confidant air.

Stepping into the foyer, Jolene's eyes widened slightly as she noted how neat and clean her former home was being kept. Surprised, she even spotted extra décor in the living room that was not part of the rental furnishings, adding an extra touch of warmth and hominess to the room. The Valentina she knew had not been big on decorating an apartment, much less keeping it clean. Jolene had expected to find the house she had loved once in pretty much the same condition Gemma had described with disgust after Jax had tossed his ex-wife Wendy out so many years ago.

Watching Jolene take in her surroundings, much like her father had when he had paid her an unannounced visit, Tina felt defenseless and stripped bare in her pajamas. Jolene, on the other hand, was wearing what appeared to be a brand new pair of knee high designer boots paired with skin tight black leggings, matching tank top and a fitted burgundy leather jacket. With an oversized black hobo bag casually slung over her shoulder, sterling silver jewelry and her make up done to perfection, she looked every inch an old lady, beautiful and powerful. Tina noted with pride that her daughter was truly stunning.

After their disastrous first meeting and Jolene's edict of no contact, Tina had resigned herself to never seeing the daughter she had treated so despicably in her childhood again. Although it had been a bitter pill to swallow, it had come as no surprise. There was no mistaking this late-night visit for a social call. More than likely, Jolene had heard about her son's visit to the salon and had come to tell her to get the fuck out of Charming for good.

 _And if that's what she wants, as much as I love Fawn, I will leave. I at least owe Jolene that much_.

Finally finding her words, Tina gestured towards the couch. "Would you like to sit down?"

 _Not really,_ Jolene thought grimly as she turned to look Tina over. _But these new boots are killing my feet!_ That was the last time she would ever take Gemma's "Fashion Before Comfort" advice.

Sauntering over to the couch, Jolene almost smiled at the flood of memories that hit her all at once. If the couch could talk, it could relate to the world just what a little slut she was when it came to her old man. Taking a seat in what had been her favorite spot, Jolene crossed her legs as she tried to keep her face passive. Thankfully, her tenant excused herself briefly and headed to the master bedroom, giving Jolene a moment to regroup.

Jolene watched as Valentina returned after removing the green gunk from her face. Completely free of make-up, Jolene was surprised by how fresh and clean her skin looked. As a matter of fact, despite the amount of time that had gone by, Valentina looked even better now than she had when Jolene left Seattle over 17 years ago.

In spite of all the surprises that had jolted Jolene from the moment she had stepped inside the house, she was determined to maintain the upper hand as she coldly watched Valentina take hesitant steps across the floor to sit in the loveseat directly opposite her.

Tina, on the other hand, unaware by how unnerved Jolene was, wished the young woman had decided to show up just five minutes before she had removed all her make-up. Without that barrier, she felt totally exposed and vulnerable before the younger woman.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Tina asked, managing to sound even and calm.

Jolene shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I wouldn't mind a shot of tequila."

Tina winced. "I'm sorry. I should have been more specific. I have coffee and herbal tea, and some flavored seltzers on hand, but I don't keep liquor in the house."

Tina watched as Jolene aimed an arched eyebrow at her in slight disbelief. "Well, that's a first. So what, no more Cranberry and Vodka Spritzers for ya? I think I remember that being your favorite drink or, at the very least, I remember you enjoyed throwing them at me during your drunken middle of the night tirades."

Tina nodded. She could see that this was going to be a long night of well-deserved sarcasm and anger-filled one-liners made at her expense. But since actually sitting down and talking with her only child was not a chance Tina believed she would ever get in her lifetime, she was determined to suck it up. Tina had her pride, but right now it was secondary to hearing her daughter out. It had been a long time coming and she deserved whatever vitriol was aimed at her.

"That's right," She admitted. "It _was_ a favorite of mine, but that part of my life has been over for a long time now."

"Well, the fact is, I didn't come here for a drink or to talk about your new life, Valentina—" Jolene started, but was interrupted.

"If it's not too much to ask, please call me Tina. I don't use Valentina any more."

Jolene eyed the women who in the space of a few seconds seemed to grow something of a backbone. Apparently, Valentina was a sore subject for her as well. At the mere mention of her old moniker, Jolene had noticed her egg donor move from a pitiful and slumped position to sitting erect and straight in her seat, her hands folded delicately on her lap.

"To be honest, I don't really care to call you shit." Eyeing the woman coolly, Jolene continued. "As a matter of fact, I don't particularly care for being here at all, that is, if it wasn't for my son, Abel."

Tina sighed softly as she resigned herself to whatever fate Jolene wanted to assign her. "I figured that's why you were here. Just so you know, I didn't seek him out. He dropped by the shop a few days ago on his own accord."

"Oh, I know. Had that not been the case, had you instigated a meet, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." Jolene replied with confidence. "My husband would have _escorted_ you out of town himself."

At first relieved that there was still hope she would be allowed to wrap up her business with Fawn before being forced to leave California, Tina suddenly felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of what "escorted" actually meant.

"I want to know what you said to him." The SAMCRO Queen continued.

Almost quoting the conversation between her and Abel verbatim, Tina told her daughter what she wanted to hear.

"So he never said who he was?"

"No, he didn't."

"How did you know it was him?"

Tina smiled. "Except for his eyes, he's the spitting image of your husband. I would have known him anywhere."

Jolene nodded as she absently tapped her knee. The sudden nervous twitching didn't sit well with her and almost had Jolene wishing she hadn't quit smoking years ago so that she would have something to do with her hands. Having Tina corroborate Abel's side of the story, which she finally got out of him after they had mended fences, was the only thing keeping her from completely losing her shit.

"I guess I should just get to the reason why I'm here. My children. You see, as far as they are concerned, SAMCRO is our family. We may not all be related by blood, but when I first came to Charming, I learned from them the true meaning of family. I take great pride in them and in the lives we have built with each other and I want my children to know as little as possible about the more shitty aspects of family life. I want them to know _nothing_ of my life with you." Jolene explained, her green eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "And now, here you are in Charming and suddenly all these questions are coming up about who you are and why my children don't know you. And I don't know how to answer those questions short of telling them that I don't want them to know you."

Jolene almost did a double-take as she noted the nearly imperceptible flash of hurt on her egg donor's face before Tina managed to compose herself enough to respond.

"I accept that," Tina replied quietly. "If I was in your position, I'd probably do the same."

Jolene shook her head and chuckled bitterly. "You'd need to have a heart to understand _my_ position."

Instead of seeing hurt flash across the woman's face again, Jolene was surprised to see anger spark in Tina's eyes. Having made up her mind to accept whatever stinging remarks her daughter threw at her, Tina simply couldn't let that one go.

"I have a fuckin' heart and it's still bleeding over the shit I did to you. I deserve your anger, even your hate, but don't tell me that I lack the ability to see all the damage I've done, that I cannot possibly feel remorse and sadness because of all the hurt I caused." Tina spit out. "For the past 17 years I have been trying to repent for my sins. I don't expect forgiveness, Jolene, but I had hoped that you, of all people, understood _my_ position. I know it's all my fault for passing on my shitty genes, but after you went off the rails I wanted to reconnect with you. I wanted to help you, but by the time I knew how bad shit had gotten for you and I managed to locate the Lollipop Café, you had already left—"

Tina literally shrank back in her chair as Jolene leapt to her feet. "What are you talking about?! AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE _LOLLIPOP_?!"

"I—um, that's where that nasty bitch told me you had been working," Tina replied, feeling more than just a little uneasy under Jolene's piercing gaze. She moistened her lips. "Just before you died."

* * *

Jolene felt her legs give out from under her as she sank back onto the couch. " _What_?" She asked blankly.

Tina ran her hands through her hair. "Maybe its for the best if we leave all this in the rearview," She sighed. "Talking about it now isn't going to do either of us any good."

Jolene was shaking her head violently. "No! You can't just drop shit like that on me and then try to sweep it under the damn rug. Who told you that I had died?"

Having now opened the can of worms, Tina realized that she really had no choice in the matter. Rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb, she finally looked up to make eye contact with the angry eyes staring her down.

"It was some federal agent who came to see me about eight years ago. She was a real bitch, too—"

"June Stahl," Jolene said quietly as she ran her own hand through her midnight black hair.

Tina's eyes widened. "Yeah, but how did you know?"

"Oh, I've had my own run-ins with that piece of shit." Jolene replied. "Let's just say that between the two of you, I actually hated her more, which considering our history, is saying something."

"Well, at least I can be grateful to her for pushing me down to the second slot on your shit list."

"It wasn't quite a tie, but just barely." Jolene smirked as she leaned back into the sofa and crossed her legs again. "I know she came to see you. She took great pleasure in telling me about your rehabilitation, not caring that I really didn't give a shit. Oh, and she did mention the fact that you told her about how your asshole pimp boyfriend tried to rape me. Why the fuck would you tell her that shit? Did it ever occur to you that asswipe was on a fishing expedition?"

Tina nodded shamefacedly. "It did, just a little too late. She really did a number on my head. Told me how bad life had turned out for you after you left Seattle and returned to Charming. How by the time you were 18, you were living with a criminal and that he was awful to you. He had knocked you up and made you leave Charming, so you ended up in Seattle again working in strip clubs in order to support your sickly baby." Tina rattled on, keenly aware by how shocked Jolene was by everything she was hearing. "She pretty much led me to believe that you were on drugs. She came across so sympathetic that I really thought she was trying to help you by figuring out what bad shit had happened while you were living with me that caused you to lose it. That's when I realized that it was all my fault, because of Ricky and what he tried to do you. I broke down," Tina mopped at the tears suddenly streaming down her face and sniffed. "And I confessed my role in how that shit played out. She convinced me that the MC was partially to blame as well and that maybe I could help you by giving her any information about what happened to Ricky in order to make the Club pay. I was so grief-stricken by the stuff she told me about you that it took me until that moment to realize what she was trying to do. By then she had already let it slip that you were working at the Lollipop Café, so I told her to get the fuck out of my house and when she refused, Frank put her ass out. And then we started looking for you."

Jolene was literally frozen in her chair, her mouth dry as sawdust. "You went looking for me? Why?"

Tina inhaled and exhaled loudly. "I wanted to help you," She whispered looking at the wide-eyed woman. "Frank had a lot of money and no children of his own. When he found out about you and the trouble you were in—with drugs and with Abel being so sick—he wanted to help me do whatever we could to find you. It broke his heart thinking that as a mother, you were doing all you could to get your son the best care. But Stahl said you were a lost cause, that you had given up and were spending most of your money on drugs and alcohol. _Just like I had_. She even said that you were doing lap dances at the Café and I knew that it was just a matter of time before you moved from lap dances to—" Tina lowered her eyes.

"Hooking." Jolene finished.

"Yeah. It didn't take us long to find the Café even though you have no idea how many titty bars in Seattle have 'Lollipop' in the name." She said. "The owner, Mick Something-or-Other, told me that you had quit just a few days before and that he had no idea where you had taken off to. About a month later, I got a call from Stahl with the news that the grandson I had never met had died and the daughter I was so desperate to find had deliberately O.D. and your remains returned to Charming. I was devastated. Again, I had failed you. Had Fawn never come to Charming to take care of her father, I never would have known that you were alive. Why would Stahl tell me something like that? Why would she lie about you being dead?"

"To keep us from finding each other," Jolene said softly. She had to clear her throat several times before she could speak in a voice loud enough for Tina to hear. "Agent Stahl had an agenda involving the MC and she wanted to use me. She must have heard that you were looking for me and figured that if I had someone to turn to in Seattle I wouldn't fall in line with her plans, which was for me to return to Charming and the MC.

"Why did she want you to go back to Charming?"

"That's not important anymore," Jolene waved off Tina's questioning. Despite everything Tina had shared and the overwhelming feelings she was experiencing, Jolene wasn't about to divulge Club business to an outsider. "Point is, she didn't succeed."

"I somehow understand now why you hate her so passionately. What a bitch!" Tina said angrily. "Where is she now?"

For the first time since sitting to talk with Tina, Jolene smiled. It was a cold, hard smile, reminiscent of Clay, which Tina found a little disturbing. "Stahl's dead. She had many skeletons in her own closet, literally, and was facing a lot of jail time, so she killed herself." Jolene explained quite convincingly. Only a handful of people knew the truth about the end of June Stahl by Jax's hand.

"Sounds to me like justice was served." Tina replied. "Thanks to Stahl, I lived all these years believing you were dead."

Jolene's jaw clenched as she fought what felt like tears forming in her eyes. "You should have just kept believing it."

"How could I?" Tina asked somewhat indignant. "You have no idea how shocked I was when Fawn told me about the dust up she got into with one of the Club's high ranking old ladies named 'Jolene'. The name is too uncommon. What are the chances of there being two Jolenes with ties to SAMCRO? I nearly shit myself and since I never told Fawn about my own connection to the MC, I had to play it off like I had no clue who you were. I had no intention of ever coming to Charming, so I used the internet to learn as much about you as I could and that's when I realized that you had a pretty good life. And you hadn't needed my help. I guess that shouldn't have surprised me since you are so much like your father. Neither of you will take shit from anyone and will fight to the death for your family."

"He taught me well. After all, taking care of family isn't something I learned from you, is it?" Jolene asked bitterly.

Tina looked at resigned face of her daughter, startled that the young woman seemed on the verge of tears. "No," She said sadly. "You didn't."

And suddenly, without warming, all of the overwhelming feelings Jolene had been experiencing finally bubbled to the surface as she sprung off the couch to stalk over to Tina. "And why the hell is that, huh?! What did I do to you that you would so callously abandon me emotionally and treat me worse than a piece of shit?! I have a right to know, damn it!"

Tina stood up to face her. "You didn't _do_ anything, baby. Nothing was _ever_ your fault. You need to believe that."

"No, I don't believe that shit for a minute! I must have done something to you!" Jolene shouted. "Just tell what it was because you can't just go from taking care of someone— _loving a child_ —to treating them like garbage!" She said brokenly. "I remember! Don't you understand, damn it?! I _remember_ when you used to love me! When you used to play with me and show me off to all your friends. I remember you fixing my hair just like yours and showing me affection. I remember you FEEDING me! And then I woke up one day and my mother was gone. Next thing I knew, I was starving and living in a fuckin' closet and being burned with cigarettes like an animal. So you tell me what the fuck I did to make you stop loving me!"

Hearing her daughter's pleas, Tina wrapped her arms around her own body, her heart racing and burning in her chest. The pain she saw reflected in Jolene's eyes, as well as her own feelings of self-loathing and recriminations were suffocating her. Tina swiped at the tears running down her face and tried to get herself under control. Hearing the anger and hurt in Jolene's voice, Tina truly came to understand what emotional damage she had done to her child and she knew she had to try and fix it.

"You _NEVER_ did anything wrong, baby girl," She whispered hoarsely. "I swear. It was all on me, _always_ on me _._ You were never to blame. My addictions and my own pathetic weaknesses were."

Reaching out, she tentatively placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders and, when Jolene didn't resist, Tina gently pushed her down on the sofa and sat next to her.

"It's time you heard the truth about everything—my relationship with your father and how I ruined it, the life you and I had together before I messed everything up and the man who set me on that path of self-destruction." Tina related, trying to remain calm. She knew she didn't deserve it, but she had just been given a gift, the chance to explain herself to the only person that mattered, her daughter. "No matter what you may feel about me, Jolene, whether or not you choose to hear me out or believe anything I have to say is up to you. But whatever happens between us going forward, I want you to know that even when I was a train wreck and living in denial," Tina paused as she looked into the green eyes swimming with tears and grief. " _I have always loved you_."

* * *

After Tina spoke for what seemed like hours, with Jolene only interrupting to ask a question or two, both women now sat in complete silence as they tried to process the wealth of information they had just discovered about each other. As Tina confessed every misstep she had taken in her life and every sin she had committed against the child she had loved very much, she felt a burden lift from her shoulders. Jolene, on the other hand, instead of achieving a sense of closure after allowing herself to hear Tina's side, felt crushed and weighed down by all she had learned.

Jolene had come into this meet prepared to block any attempts by Tina to try and soften the hatred she felt towards her. As she listened to Tina relate how her life had spiraled out of control after her introduction to hard drugs, Jolene had to admit to herself that, on some small level, she was moved. But it was confirmation that her early memories of a happy life with her mother had been real that emotionally devastated her.

As a teenager, Jolene had refused to cut her mother a break when her probation officer Debra McAllister had tried to justify Valentina's behavior, saying that her addiction was at the heart of her problems. Now Jolene was starting to realize that her stubborn pride had kept her from seeing that maybe the cold-hearted bitch McAllister might have had a legitimate point after all.

Thinking about her time spent in Seattle after Abel was born, Jolene couldn't help but wonder what would have happened had she been reunited with Tina. She had been desperately homesick for her old man and for her family, but too pig-headed to go home. Had Luann not died and Tina and her husband had found her, is it possible that in her desperation she would have accepted a relationship with her birth mother? The thought of it was mind boggling and for the first time, Jolene really looked at the woman sitting in front of her.

And she didn't see Valentina. She saw Tina. And it was frightening.

Standing up suddenly, Jolene grabbed her bag. "I need to go."

Tina wanted to cry some more as she saw the cracks in her daughter's defensive armor, the pain and anxiety on her face. It was simply too much, all that they had shared, and it was obvious that Jolene was overwhelmed, much in the same way that she herself was.

"I understand." Tina got up and followed her to the front door.

Jolene pulled open the door and started to walk through it, but turned back to face her mother. "No. You don't understand." She started with a little despair in hr voice. "I had a plan coming here tonight. I was going to reiterate that I didn't want you having any contact with my family, that I wanted to go on pretending that you didn't exist. Now, I don't know what I want."

Tina's heart literally broke and soared at the same time as several tears ran down her face. "Then take your time to figure out what you want to do. I'm not going anywhere and I promise, I won't overstep my bounds." Tina offered quietly. "And thank you, for hearing me out. I know that I can't ever make up for everything thing I did to you, but please know that I am truly, truly sorry for all the hurt I caused you."

Not trusting herself to speak, Jolene nodded briefly before heading to her car.

* * *

As a member of the Sons of Anarchy for over 40 years and as its former President, phone calls in the middle of the night were quite common and not enough to make Clay lose much sleep, especially if the problem could be dealt with over the phone without having to leave his bed. Even Gemma barely stirred anymore when his prepay started ringing hours after they had called it a night.

Tonight was different, however, as the call that had pulled Clay out of a deep slumber had come from Jax. It was a quarter to three in the morning and instead of being tucked into his own bed with his old lady, the current SAMCRO President was sitting on his bike parallel to his wife's Mustang, which was parked right outside the Morrow home.

"Why would you let her out of the house by herself in the middle of night?" Clay hissed, fuming as he threw his legs over the side of the bed, his feet searching for his slippers in the dark.

" _It wasn't the middle of the night when she left, a'ight?" Jax countered, more than a little annoyed that Clay saw fit to bitch at him instead of doing as he had asked. "Can you please just go check before I swing by the Clubhouse again?"_

The lamp on the night table by Gemma's side of the bed suddenly illuminated the room. "Something wrong, Clay?" Gemma groggily pushed herself up on one elbow as she tried rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her free hand.

"Nah, go back to sleep, Gem." Clay said as he stood up from the bed. "I have to check on something for Jax."

Looking at the alarm clock on Clay's night table, Gemma's eyes widened. "It's three o'clock in the morning. What's going on?"

"Club business," Clay lied. "Now stay put."

With Jax still on the line, Clay made his way downstairs. "Why would you ever let her go over there by herself in the first place?"

_Jax made an exasperated noise. "You keep asking why I 'let' her do shit. Did you forget we're talking about your daughter here? Besides, this is shit she needed to take care of."_

"Brilliant idea, by the way," Clay said sarcastically. "I want to shake the hand of the moron who put the idea in baby girl's head."

" _This is something she had to do, Clay." Jax reasoned._

"I know, but she wasn't ready."

" _You don't know that."_

"If she was, she wouldn't be missing now, would she?"

" _She's not missing, damn it! I know Jo and so do you. Where's the one place she takes off to when she needs to be close to her father?"_

"Alright already." Clay groused as he saw light coming from his man cave. He hated when his son-in-law was right about his baby girl. Clay peeked around the door and heaved a sigh of relief before bringing the phone back to his ear. "She's here."

" _Told you. Now open the door and let me in."_

"What the hell for?" Clay whispered.

_Jax made an exasperated noise again. "So I can bring my wife home."_

"No. You said so yourself, baby girl needs her father." Clay said quietly. "You go home and I'll drop her off when she's ready." Without waiting for a response, Clay ended the call.

Jolene was sitting at his desk, her back to the door. She held a glass of amber colored liquid in one hand as with the other she flipped through some sort of book resting in her lap.

"You never have tequila down here." She said without turning around.

Clay almost chuckled to himself as he realized that his stealth skills were no longer what they used to be. "You know I don't drink that shit and this is, after all, my man cave."

Taking a huge drink from her glass, Jolene turned in the swivel chair to face her father. "You're not supposed to be drinking this shit either." She replied as she looked at her father with a raised eyebrow.

 _Aw shit_ , Clay caught on to the fact that he had been busted with liquor in his man cave just a moment too late.

"Alright, Eliot Ness, you got me," Clay walked over to his daughter with his hands up and noticed that she had been flipping through the baby album Tina had made for him. "But you do know that Prohibition ended in the 1930s, right?"

Jolene smiled weakly. "I'm not here to bust your balls, Dad." She swirled the whiskey in her glass before swallowing it down. "It's not what I was looking for, but I needed a drink anyway, so thanks."

"You're always welcomed here, baby girl, but you wanna tell me why you're raiding my liquor stash at three o'clock in the morning?" Clay asked quietly.

Placing the empty glass on the desk, Jolene got up from the chair and moved over to the couch, clutching the photo album to her chest. "I heard you talking to Jax, Dad. You know why I'm here." She had taken off the boots that had been killing her feet and sat down with her legs tucked underneath her.

"Yeah," Clay replied quietly as he walked around the couch and sat next to his daughter. "So how you holding up?" Seeing the pensive look on his daughter's face spoke volumes, but Clay needed to hear it from her lips.

"I'm okay." But Jolene's lackluster tone betrayed her true feelings.

"You sure about that, little girl?" Clay asked. "You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. You wanna tell me what you've been up to tonight?"

Jolene shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know if I can, Dad." She replied as she ran her hand through her dark thick hair. "I'm not exactly sure I know myself." She sighed quietly as she opened the photo album and started flipping through it again. Jolene had left Tina's house hours ago and had yet to find a way to process all she had learned.

Clay watched her as she examined every photo as if seeing them for the first time. He could see an internal struggle playing out on her pretty face, her bright eyes glistening with tears she refused to shed. Clay could sit next to her all night talking, but she had to start talking first. This silence between them was breaking his heart.

"You know you can tell me anything, right baby girl?" Clay pressed gently.

Jolene nodded and hesitated a moment before blurting out. "I went to see Tina tonight." She said, snapping the photo album shut.

Clay nodded, noticing, but not reacting to Jolene's use of her mother's new name. "How did that go?"

Jolene chuckled bitterly as she blinked and one lone tear rolled down her cheek. Quickly brushing it away, she shook her head. "Not at all as I had planned."

Clay furrowed his brow, quickly doing a visual scan of Jolene for bruises. "Shit didn't jump off, did it?"

The earnest look of concern on his weathered face forced Jolene to giggle. "If you're asking if I kicked her ass, Dad, no, I didn't. Our talk was more like an episode of Oprah, not Jerry Springer."

Once Jolene had come to live in Charming with her father as a young child, her memories of the time she had spent with her mother had receded to the back of her subconscious. As a matter of fact, Jolene had managed to become quite indifferent when it came to her mother, going years at a time without even thinking about her.

Everything changed for her, however, when at 17 Jolene was forced to return to her mother's care as part of her probation, the price she had to pay for coming to Jax's defense with a steel bat. Although they had managed to mostly stay out of each other's way, the six months that Jolene had lived with her mother had abruptly ended with her near rape by her mother's pimp. Jolene's indifference had turned to bitter hate then and, as far as she was concerned, her worthless egg donor was as good as dead to her.

Now, 17 years later, Jolene found herself stripped of the hatred she had carried around with her like protective armor. Even though Jolene knew that there was always more than one or two sides to every story, she had managed to convince herself that Tina's side wouldn't make a difference to her one way or the other. Instead, what Tina had to say was eerily similar to what Jolene had always wanted to believe were false memories, but all she had to do was look at the photo album she was holding to know that Tina had told her the truth.

Looking at her father—the man that had rescued her from a living hell as a child—Jolene wasn't sure she could tell him that her resolve to keep Tina at bay and away from her family was weakening.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Clay ran a hand through his thick head of grey hair. "She wasn't at all what you expected."

Jolene met her father's direct gaze, his steely blue eyes set deep in his face. The look of concern and love she saw in those depths instantly transported her back to a time when, as a small child, she would crawl onto his lap and tell him everything that was wrong with her world and he would make it all right.

"No, she's not." Jolene replied softly. "And I hate myself for accepting that."

"Don't," Clay advised. "Because maybe the person she is today is the person she was always capable of being if given the chance and I didn't give her that chance."

"Dad—" Jolene started to argue.

"Just hear me out, baby girl." Clay ordered and his daughter subsided. "When I met your mother, I was a pretty hard nut to crack—shit! That's not really true, is it? I've ALWAYS been a hard nut. Point is, I was pretty set in my ways, even back then. I loved the Life and I loved my Club and I enjoyed the hell out of being single. I had no desire to snag me an old lady. What the fuck for? There were always plenty of Club women around to take care of my needs, so when I met your mother, I treated her pretty much the same way, only—" Clay hesitated.

"Only what?"

Clay sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to say this shit out loud. It was something he swore he would carry with him to his grave, but now was the time to come clean with his daughter. If Tina could do it, so could he. "Only difference was that I fell for her. _Hard_."

Jolene wrinkled her brows in confusion. "Fell for her? You mean you loved her?"

"Yeah, I did. For the first time in my life, I was in love. For the better part of a year I would make special trips to Tacoma just to see her. I seriously wanted to marry her, but she was young and stupid. And I was old and even stupider." He paused.

"She told me about not being faithful to you and blamed her own insecurities for ending your relationship. Doesn't seem like you, Dad, to fall for someone with so many weaknesses." Jolene commented frankly.

"I loved her, baby girl, but the fact was that I couldn't overlook those weaknesses. Like I said, she was young and I could deal with the partying while I wasn't around, the weed, the drinking and the occasional acid trip. Until I officially made her my old lady, if I didn't see it, it didn't happen." Clay explained and hesitated for a moment, as if the memory were too painful, before continuing. "What I couldn't overlook was the fact that she was fuckin' around on me with my own brothers. That shit gutted me like a fish, so I just tossed her to the curb. I was too embarrassed and too proud and pussy never got in the way of brotherhood anyway. It was just easier to act like she was nothing to me."

Jolene reached out and placed her hand on her father's shoulder. "And you regret that?"

Clay met his daughter's gaze head on. "I do." He nodded. "In all the time we were together, I think I told Tina I loved her maybe once. Things might have been different had she heard that more often. At least she would have known that we had a future together. Instead of you growing up surround by the shit her life became, you could've had a better start in life. I could have been there from the very beginning for you, baby girl."

"Dad, no," Jolene scooted over to her father and wrapping her arms around his neck kissed him tenderly on the cheek. "You can't blame yourself for the shit I went through with Tina. That shit's on her, not you and she knows it."

Clay nodded. "She does. It has taken her a long time, but Tina recognizes those weaknesses in herself and knows the mistakes she's made, but she's not the woman she used to be. And even though I told Tina that I can't ever forgive her for all the bad shit she let happen to you, that's more my own baggage than yours, baby girl. I may not be able to forgive her, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't."

Jolene was startled, not expecting her father to ever say those words to her. "Forgiveness is one thing, Daddy, but where do we go from there?"

Clay shook his head. "That's a decision only you can make, sweetheart. I will tell you this, if you feel you need to start some kind of relationship with the woman she is now and you're worried that I won't approve, don't. I raised myself one helluva a kid and I know any decision she makes is a good one. I support ya and I know your old man won't only kill for ya, but he trusts you with his life. Don't worry about anyone else because they will either fall in line or need to get the fuck out of the way."

Although Jolene was far from having thought this situation over, knowing how the two most important men in her life felt eased her mind considerably. Grabbing her father's arm and wrapping it around her shoulder, Jolene wiggled herself into her Clay's side, resting her head on his chest and opened the photo album.

"That one's my favorite." Clay commented as Jolene smiled. "I'm not sure, but that might be the only time you've ever wore a dress as a child."

Jolene giggled. "That looks like a christening gown, Dad. Even boys wear them, so I don't think it counts."

"Hey, it's not a T-M work shirt and a greasy pair of jeans, so it counts."

There was a soft tapping on the door frame and both heads flew up, both father and daughter expecting to find Gemma. It was Jax.

Clay did a double take. "How the hell did you get in?"

"Same way Jo did," Jax smirked. "Who did you think taught her how to pick a lock?"

"Hey, baby," Jolene smiled as she slammed what Jax noticed was her baby album closed.

"Uh-huh," Clay started. "I clean and bandage the wounds and dipshit over there gets the smiles."

"Oh, stop," Jolene swatted at her father. "You're not fooling me. I know I've been replaced in this tug o'war between you two by Maddy." She teased.

"Everything good?" Jax asked, a little in awe of Clay's abilities to soothe his sometimes emotional daughter.

Jolene shrugged her shoulders. "More like okay, but it's getting there. Thanks, Dad." She dropped another kiss on her father's cheek before jumping up from the couch and into Jax's arms.

"Anytime, baby girl, only next time, bring your own bottle of booze. I have a hard enough time sneaking my own stash in here." Clay kidded.


	26. The Getaway

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Even though it was late-summer, the air was a lot chillier the farther north Opie and Fawn traveled and the closer they got to the water. The midnight blue of the clear sky overhead was blanketed with brilliant stars, which illuminated the road for Opie and allowed Fawn to enjoy the scenery. After seven hours of active road time, stopping once for a late dinner and once again for fuel, Fawn was afraid that she would spend the next couple of days sleeping in order to recover enough for the trip back to Charming. Thankfully, a few minutes shy of midnight, and just outside of Crescent City, Opie pulled into the parking lot of the Crescent Beach Motel.

Fawn heaved a sigh of relief as Opie killed the engine. She wasn't used to riding for such long periods of time and even though she loved it, she wasn't sure how much longer she could have gone without asking to stop. Giving Opie a quick squeeze from behind, partly because she loved him, but mostly in appreciation for having reached their destination, Fawn managed to maneuver herself off the bike in spite of her stiff legs. Removing her helmet, she could hear the roaring of the ocean just yards away and took several deep breaths of the refreshing salt water air. Amazingly, Fawn felt instantly revived. Then again, it didn't hurt that the moment she was within grabbing distance, Opie had pulled her into his arms to give her a soul-searing kiss that awoke every nerve ending in her body.

Holding her close to his broad chest, Opie smiled down into her slightly upturned face. "We're here." He announced with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

"I gathered." Fawn smiled back, her own arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"It's a good thing, too," He started before he dipped his head and nuzzled her ear, sending shivers down her spine and tightening her nipples. "Because do you have any idea how fuckin' hot I've been for you all night?" He growled against her throat, his hands simultaneously squeezing her ass and grinding her hips into his so she could feel just how hot he was for her.

Feeling his erection pressed against her core, Fawn was lightly panting as she gently pushed him away so that they were once again eye to eye. "Then you need to go and check us in, Redwood. I'd prefer the privacy of a room, but I can be convinced to take care of business right here, on your bike, if that's what you want." She teased, more than a little excited by the feral look in his darkened green eyes, his loose and windblown shoulder-length hair making him look dangerous.

For a good twenty seconds, it looked like he was seriously considering taking her right then and there. Instead, Opie suddenly grabbed her by the back of the neck and planted a hard kiss on her lips. "I'll be right back."

Watching him practically stomp off towards the front desk in the main office, Fawn felt beads of sweat form on her brow in spite of the slight chill in the air. Fanning herself, Fawn leaned against Opie's bike and waited for him to return. Actually noticing her surroundings for the first time, she pursed her lips and decided that she wasn't very impressed with the place. Fawn couldn't remember the last time she had been on a beach, but she loved the ocean. Even though she could hear waves crashing on the shoreline a short distance away and almost found herself squealing in girly delight, she was still a little wary about the dated-looking one-story motel made of sun-bleached wood.

Seeing Opie approach her with a big "you're-in-for-it-now" grin plastered on his handsome face as he waved their room key around, Fawn decided she already loved the motel no matter what. Their surroundings could never be more important than actually being together and being with the man she loved was all that mattered right now. Wrapping her arm around his waist, Fawn closed her eyes as Opie pulled her into his side and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Quickly grabbing their saddlebags, he led them to Room No. 18.

Stepping into the room after Opie threw the door wide open and flipped on the lights, Fawn bit her bottom lip as she crossed her arms under her chest and took a look around. Before the room could fully register with her brain so she could make a proper assessment, however, Opie dropped the saddlebags as he slammed the door closed and pulled Fawn back by her wrist. With a slightly startled expression in her wide blue eyes, she found herself pressed between the wall by the door and the brick wall that was Opie's chest.

"Where were we?" He drawled, one of his hands buried in her hair as the other cupped her face. Tilting her face up, Fawn waited for his kiss, their eyes locked on each other. "Oh yeah," He smiled, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "I was telling you how hot I've been for you all night." Opie let the corner of his mouth curl into a sexy half-grin as he felt Fawn's slight tremor of anticipation. "I love riding solo, but nothing beats the feeling of those incredible fuckin' legs of yours wrapped around my thighs, squeezing me tight. And call me crazy—or just plain horny—but even through two layers of leather I could feel your magnificent tits pressed against my back. Shit, I could even fuckin' feel the heat of your pussy through your jeans. You're gorgeous, baby, but there's something else about you that brings out the beast in me because all I wanted to do was pull over and fuck you on my bike." He almost whispered. Bringing his mouth closer to hers, Opie continued. "But I stopped myself—more than once—from fucking you hard and fast because I knew you wouldn't be able to walk, much less ride afterward." Fawn closed her eyes as a soft moan escaped her lips. Opie couldn't help himself and growled as he bit her bottom lip, sucking on it before letting it go. "But we're here now."

Before Fawn could think of taking a breath, Opie's mouth was on hers, his teeth, tongue and lips demanding her all. Snaking her somewhat shaky hands under his leather and kutte, she pushed them off his muscled shoulders and onto the floor. Opie's work-callused hands quickly found their way up her form-fitting t-shirt, pleasantly surprised to discover that Fawn had chosen to go braless, as she shrugged her own leather jacket off her shoulders and onto the floor at her feet. Once again, Opie had every nerve ending in her body humming in response to the heat he was emanating, the need to feel more of him practically making her whimper. Pulling away from their kiss to catch their breath, Opie pulled Fawn's shirt over her head as she hurriedly worked on the button and zipper on his jeans. Pushing his pants and his boxers down to his knees, Fawn fell to hers.

"Shit!" Opie groaned, one hand braced against the wall in front of him and the other buried in Fawn's hair as she eagerly wrapped her lips around his already-hard length.

Swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, Fawn reveled in the feel of the hard, yet soft velvety rod in her mouth. The eagerness of her tongue and the firm suction of her mouth made Opie want to close his eyes and just _feel_ , but as much as he wanted to, Opie fought the urge to let his eyes roll to the back of his head. He wanted to enjoy every moment as he watched his girl go down on him.

 _It's a beautiful fuckin' sight_ , Opie thought as her perky tits gently jiggled as she worked on him with her moist, hot mouth.

His balls were tight and he could feel his orgasm hanging on by a thread, but through sheer force of will, he held himself back. It had been a long time since Opie had to exercise so much self-control when it came to sex. He didn't like to think of himself as a selfish lover, but before Fawn, that's exactly what he had been: selfish. After his disastrous relationship with Lyla, Opie had resigned himself to filling up his bed down at the Clubhouse with only croweaters. Unfortunately for them, their satisfaction was never really a priority. But all that changed once Fawn came into his life and his bed. There was suddenly only room for her and it became a badge of honor for his male pride to see her come completely undone. There was nothing more beautiful than watching his fiery redhead lost in the throes of pleasure that only he gave her. Afterward, his own orgasm would be explosive and mind-blowing and Opie knew that it was only because he loved her.

Fighting to keep from bucking his hips and pushing his dick deeper down her throat, Opie finally let himself close his eyes as he agonizingly pulled out of her mouth. Opie smiled as Fawn made an annoyed sound in protest. He needed to be inside her, but in a different, more intimate way. Running his hand over her hair as she looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes, Opie forced himself to speak, his voice hoarse and thick with want.

"Take your pants off, baby."

Flashing him a brilliant naughty girl smile, Fawn leaned back against the wall as she unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Pushing her pants down over her slender thighs, Opie smiled again as her beautiful rose tattoo came into full view, along with the neatly trimmed strip of flaming hair decorating the otherwise hairless triangle between her legs.

"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered to himself as he held onto her hands and pulled her back onto her feet. Opie could feel her trembling as he bent to nuzzle her neck, his beard tickling her fair skin as he trailed hot kisses down to her dusty pink nipples.

Fawn moaned, struggling to kick off her boots and jeans as she used her hand to clutch Opie's head to her breast. He was sucking hard enough to leave bruises on her porcelain skin, but the pain was excruciatingly beautiful. "Oh!" She arched her back as he rolled her taut nipple between his teeth, her free hand finding and stroking the heated shaft poking at her thigh. "Still wanna fuck me hard and fast?"

Opie suddenly let go of her nipple with a pop. Fawn bit her lip to suppress another moan as the feral look returned to his eyes. Without saying a word, Opie dropped a sweet kiss on her lips before grabbing her by the hips. Fawn let out a startled squeal as he forcefully turned her so that she was facing the wall. Pinning her hands above her head, Opie trailed kisses over her spine as he bent her slightly at the waist. Fawn was breathing rapidly in expectation, her knees nearly buckling as Opie plunged himself deep into her.

"Shit! Fuck!" Opie groaned into her hair.

She was wet and slick, but incredibly tight in this position. It was a delicious sensation and almost too much to bear as Opie gathered every ounce of willpower in his possession before he would let himself move inside of her.

"Oh my God, Ope!" Fawn was practically begging. "Fuck me, baby." He started slowly at first, one hand like a vise on her hip as the other one trailed up her back into her hair. "Yes!" Fawn gasped as he grabbed a handful of locks. Slow was good, but soon it wasn't enough. "Faster . . . please!"

Opie was breathing heavily as he grabbed her by both hips and pushed himself hard and fast into her moist heat over and over. Planting her heels firmly between Opie's legs, Fawn pushed her ass back as he thrust into her, forcing a deep growl from his chest.

"Oh, yeah," Opie groaned as a half smile played on his lips. "C'mon, baby. Fuck me back." With one hand on her hip and the other braced on the wall in front of him, Opie yanked her back onto his cock over and over.

Fawn was almost breathless, unable to catch her breath as Opie continued to plunge into her impossibly tight pussy with a staccato rhythm. She was whimpering and on the verge of tears, using her hands pressed firmly against the wall to keep her face a safe distance from it. Her legs trembled, becoming weaker as she felt the heat building in her center.

Opie felt it too. "Yeah, baby. Come on!" He managed to ground out through gritted teeth. "Fuck, come for me." Wrapping an arm around her waist, Opie lifted her back up against his chest, his other arm wrapped around her shoulders. With her arms reaching behind them, Fawn grabbed the tight muscles of his ass for leverage. Opie buried his face in the crook of Fawn's neck, his hair a blanket over her shoulder, as he continued plunging himself deeper and deeper into her.

"Touch me, Ope," Fawn nearly begged. Dropping his hand, the slight pressure of his middle finger on her clit ignited an explosion of stars behind her tightly closed lids as Opie felt her muscles convulsing around him.

Roaring loud enough to muffle Fawn's cries, Opie finally let himself come inside his old lady in giant violent spurts. After several minutes of trying to catch his breath, Opie finally unwrapped himself from around Fawn to pull out. As if that had been what was holding her up, her knees suddenly buckled, but Opie scooped her up into his arms before she hit the floor.

"Oh my God," Fawn panted as she ran her hand over his sweaty brow, pushing his damp hair back, her big blue eyes droopy with exhaustion. "Amazing," was all she could managed to say next.

Opie smiled, his own legs slightly shaky as a result of their coupling. Bringing his lips to hers, he kissed Fawn softly. "Yes, you are."

* * *

Finally steady enough to stand on her own feet, Fawn went about collecting her carelessly discarded boots and clothes as she cast a discreet, but critical eye around the room. Watching her, Opie chuckled to himself as he pulled up his jeans. Fawn didn't consider herself a snob, especially since she had misspent her youth slumming in places far worse than this, but the Crescent Beach Motel had definitely seen better days. The last of those days probably being in 1967.

Somewhat shell-shocked that her first impression of the motel was proving itself to be true, Fawn noted that the room didn't even have air conditioning, not that they would need it with the temperature dipping into the cool 50's at night. The paint on the walls, which she assumed at one time had been a minty green, had turned grey with age and the floral bedspread and carpet were threadbare and worn.

 _Holy shit!_ Fawn almost slapped her forehead in surprise as she noticed that the boxy television set sitting on the mirrored dresser had a rabbit ear antenna and no remote. _I won't even ask if we have cable_.

After more than seven hours on the road and the sweaty "Welcome to Crescent City" romp she and Opie had just shared, Fawn was near desperate for a shower but was afraid to take a peek behind Door No. 1. Taking a hint from Opie, who was once again fully dressed minus his leather and kutte, Fawn threw on her road-dusty clothes, choosing to go barefoot in spite of several questionable stains on the carpet.

"I know what you're thinking, babe." Opie closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Fawn sincerely hoped that wasn't true. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt her Redwood's feelings, especially since, in spite of their current location, getting away—just the two of them—had been a romantic gesture on his part. "This place _is_ a shit hole dump, but the view is gonna knock you out." Opie pressed a kiss to the side of her face before he crossed the room to open the sliding glass doors.

Although it was too dark outside to clearly see anything, Fawn instantly felt the cooling sea breeze circulate the room. Crossing to where Opie stood grinning, Fawn closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the fresh salty air. Again, she could hear the crashing of the waves, only this time they sounded even closer.

"How far are we from the beach?" She turned to look at Opie with a glint in her eyes.

"Not far," He replied with a roguish smile. "As a matter of fact, we're _on_ the beach." Putting his hand on the small of her back, Opie nudged her out onto the deck that ran the length of the motel. Several rooms down to their right sat a man and a woman in a couple of deck chairs drinking wine. "Take a step off the deck and you're on the beach."

With the light from their room at her back, it took Fawn a minute, but her vision adjusted to the darkness. Suddenly, she could make out the white-capped waves as they broke on shore. "Oh my God," She sighed, her hand clasped under her chin reverently. Deciding that the sorry state of their accommodations was a non-issue, Fawn turned to Opie with huge doe eyes and smiled. "I love it!"

Opie could see her bright blue eyes glitter like gems as strands of her fiery hair danced in the breeze. Her skin looked like porcelain under the light of the waxing moon and, as he absorbed the statuesque beauty standing before him smiling like a little girl on Christmas, Opie felt his chest tighten. He loved her so much, it was quite possible he had never felt the way he did about her ever before.

"I know the room is shit—" Opie started but was cut off by a pair of supple and sweet, but demanding lips.

Pulling away from their kiss, Fawn cupped his bearded face. "I love it," She replied. "And, oh my God, I love you so much."

"I love you, baby girl." Turning his head slightly, Opie kissed the palm of her hand. "Wanna take a walk before we hit the sack?" He offered, knowing she must be exhausted from their ride up and understanding if she passed.

Instead, Fawn nodded enthusiastically as she stood on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I wouldn't mind taking a moonlit dip too, but we've got company." She said, referring to the wine-sipping pair still seated on the deck.

"I'm not shy," Opie stated as a matter of fact, already kicking off his boots. "Didn't think you were either."

Fawn laughed as she pulled away. "That sounds like a challenge, Redwood."

"I'm just saying," Opie shrugged his shoulders as he pulled off his t-shirt. "Last one in the water's a big fat chicken."

"Cheater!" Fawn gasped as Opie was already half undressed. Quickly ditching her jeans and t-shirt once again, she jumped off the deck and onto the sand.

"Hey! You hardly had any clothes on!" Opie protested as he struggled to wriggle out of his jeans and boxers.

"You weren't complaining before, you big fat outlaw chicken!" Fawn laughed, already kicking her feet in the water. "Ha ha! You lose!" She gave her booty a quick shake in his direction.

Taking in her translucent beauty, Opie laughed. "Not from where I'm standing, Big Red!" He called out before running down the beach as naked as the day he was born. Whisking Fawn into his arms, Opie gave her a lingering kiss before dunking the screeching redhead into the nippy waters of the Northern Pacific.

* * *

Flopping onto her back, Fawn tried to catch her breath as her heart raced in her chest, the electricity currently convulsing through her body as a result of her early morning orgasm slowly receding. Similarly coming down from his own high, Opie turned on his side to wrap a beefy arm around her waist as he nuzzled her hair.

"That was definitely the best wake up call, _ever_." He growled as he continued down a path to her earlobe, giving it a quick nip.

Fawn purred as she stretched her arms around Opie, her fingernails grazing over his reaper back tattoo. "Must be the ocean air that has me feeling particularly frisky this morning."

After a seven-hour ride on the back of Opie's bike, staying up late to frolic on the beach and enjoying another round of love games during the night, Fawn would have sworn that falling asleep meant she would drift into a coma. Instead, with only about three hours of sleep, she was surprisingly refreshed and alert when the early dawn sun peered through the slats of the cheap window blinds and across her face, waking her.

Grabbing and squeezing her bare ass with one hand as he worked a hickey on her neck, Opie suddenly stopped and lifted his head as Fawn's stomach made its presence known by rumbling loudly.

"Shit, Big Red," He laughed at the sheepish look she flashed him. "You hungry?"

"Maybe," Fawn replied coyly as her stomach protested once again. "Okay, maybe it's time you feed me before my stomach devours my other internal organs." She snarked.

"Hey, I thought you were all about taking care of your man's needs." Opie teased.

"Wow, how quickly they forget." She said to no one in particular. "Did I not just give you the best ride of your life?" Fawn gave the hair on his chin a good tug.

"Hell's yeah, but I was talking about food, babe."

Fawn rolled her eyes as she pushed Opie away. "How am I supposed to do that without a kitchen? Besides, if we're gonna get all traditional about it, you're falling down on the job, Ace. It's the man's job as the hunter/gatherer to provide the food."

"Well, look at you, falling in line with tradition and shit." Opie smiled as he dove in for a kiss. "Didn't know you had it in ya."

"Hey, I am a proud independent woman," Fawn insisted. "But sometimes the girl-in-love in me just wants to be taken care of by her man."

"If you're gonna put it like that, then I guess I better take care of my woman and get some food in ya." Opie yanked the covers off them both and stood up. In one smooth motion he hauled his suddenly squealing woman out of bed and headed toward their room's minute bathroom. "First, we'll do our bit to conserve water and then I'll take you out for the best breakfast around for miles."

Wrapping her legs around his waist, Fawn grinned. "Now that sounds like a plan."

* * *

Sitting in a booth in a cozy diner, Opie was really starting to loosen up. It felt good leaving the weight of being the SAMCRO VP back in Charming for a little while. As much as he loved his Club, he needed the time away to relax and enjoy being with the beautiful spitfire sitting in front of him, presently giving the menu a thorough once-over.

Having spent a considerable amount of time apart as he, Tiki, Filthy Phil, and several other members lent their muscle in helping the Rogue River charter deal with a pack of Meth-dealing tweakers, Opie felt that the time was right to finally take his girl on the first of what he hoped would be many road trips together.

Although duty to his brotherhood had called him away, Opie had hated picking up and leaving his woman again so soon after his last run. He had done his best to push Fawn to the back of his mind while he concentrated on Club business, but it had been almost impossible. Instead, he thought about her almost constantly. Not an hour would pass without thoughts of her slipping back into his consciousness, making him wonder what she was doing, how the business was coming along, and what the fuck was going on with that former boyfriend of hers.

It had been a couple of weeks since Max Ryder had reared his ugly head and neither Opie—nor to his knowledge Fawn—had seen hide or hair of him, which was alright by him. Now that the two of them had openly declared their love for one another, Opie had used every opportunity possible to spend time with Fawn strengthening their relationship. Opie was determined not to make the same mistakes Max had made—and obviously now bitterly regretted—by abandoning his woman for weeks and months at a time. He loved his bike and he loved hitting the open road, but it was important that she know that he loved it even more because he had her to share it with.

Now, as he sat across from his sexy redhead, Opie flashed her a grin as he watched her small nose sniff at the aroma of frying bacon, crispy waffles and strong black coffee in the air. "Smell anything you like?"

Fawn sighed. "I smell _everything_ I like and none of it is good for me."

"Nope, you won't find any of that organic stuff you like to eat on this menu," Opie agreed. "But trust me, babe. You're gonna want to make an exception this time around because this place has the best food ever."

"Well, if you say so, outlaw," Fawn giggled prettily. "But I'm starting to think you're a bad influence on me, sweet talking me into skinny dipping last night and now you're trying to get me to eat what ain't good for me—"

"Silly little girl, if _I_ were you I'd let the man influence me in _any_ way he wanted." A sultry voice from behind and above Fawn uttered. "Hey, there big fellah. It sure has been a long time, huh?"

Fawn's eyes widened and then narrowed into little slits as she eyed the biker sitting across from her. "What the fuck?" She mouthed at Opie.

Looking over Fawn's head, Opie's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion as his eyes landed on the owner of the sexy voice wearing a bright pink and extremely tight uniform, the deep V-neck showcasing her best assets. As his eyes met a pair of knowing brown ones, Opie cursed under his breath.

"Fuck my life!"

"Sugar, don't tell me that you went ahead and forgot all about me now." The blonde-haired waitress sidled up to the table and placed a hand with bright red acrylic nails on Opie's shoulder. "It may have been a long time ago, but _boy,_ I still remember you."

Shrugging his broad shoulders gently to dislodge the woman's hand, Opie's face was somewhat sheepish. "Uh, yeah, it has been a while, uh—"

"Lola," The waitress pouted prettily, patting the pink and white nametag that was pinned to her over-inflated right breast, an obvious product of plastic surgery. "Where have you been? I could have sworn after your last visit that I'd be seeing a lot more of you around these parts."

"Oh, _my man_ stopped slumming some time ago." Fawn said sweetly. "Although he did say that the _food_ here was pretty good."

Whipping her head around, Lola glanced over the pretty, but tall Amazon sitting in her station. Noting the fiery color of her hair and the spark in her crackling blue eyes, Lola, smirked. "The food here _is_ good, darlin' and so are the people who serve it. Just ask _your man_. I'm sure he'll tell you how much he enjoyed me—oops!—I mean, _the food_ his last time around."

Remembering Opie's recent runs up north, Fawn looked at Opie and gave him a sweet, but tight smile. "Really?" She drawled, dipping her finger in her ice water and flicking it at Opie, catching him in the eye. "And just _when_ was the last time you found yourself enjoying _the food_ in this fine establishment?"

Wiping at his stinging eye, Opie looked at Fawn and knew exactly what she was thinking. He may be an outlaw and what happens on a run may stay on a run and all that happy shit, but Opie was an all-in type of man when it came to commitment, and right now he was totally committed to one woman only. "About four years ago, give or take a few months."

"Is that right?" Fawn grinned as she angled her head towards the waitress. "Well, _darlin'_ , it seems to me that you—oops!—I mean, _the food_ wasn't as good as you might think and it definitely wasn't enough to keep him coming back more often like I'm sure you had hoped. Now, why don't you go back there and find someone else to wait on us before I lose my shit? I can be such a bitch without my morning coffee."

"Is there a problem here?" Opie rolled his eyes as the diner's manager, a short, portly and balding man, approached the table with hurried mincing steps.

"Yes, there is," Fawn replied sweetly. " _Lola_ here seems more interested in pushing up on my old man than she is in taking our order. You might want to take care of that for us, before I do."

Eyeing the suddenly subdued waitress and noting the beautiful, but angry young woman sitting in the booth, the manager quickly yanked Lola's pen and pad out of her hands. "Go take care of Table 9. I'll take care of this lovely young lady myself." He said, then noted the hardened stare the powerful man sitting across from her was aiming at him and laughed weakly. "And you too, of course, sir."

Quite happy to have gotten her way, Fawn gifted the manager with a brilliant smile and smirked as the waitress scurried off to do as she was told.

"Go figure, baby," She batted her naturally long eyelashes at Opie. "Suddenly, my appetite's back with a vengeance."

Opie smirked to himself as his woman gave the facetious manager her rather large order.

_At least she's ordering the Lumberjack Special and not the head of a little blond waitress on a plate._

* * *

Crescent City reminded Fawn of Seattle. A lot. It was perpetually overcast and cloudy and it had the tendency to go from balmy to downright chilly and right back again all in the same day. Fawn was sure she had not seen the sun since leaving Charming.

All things considered, however, it had been a wonderful first day and she wouldn't trade any of it for all the sunshine in the world.

Fawn smiled to herself as she snuggled even deeper into Opie's embrace. The two of them were sitting in comfortable silence just above the water's edge, barefoot and stretched out on an overpriced beach blanket Fawn had brought at one of the concession stands at the opposite end of the beach.

After enjoying amazing morning nookie at the motel, their day had almost taken a sharp left into shit when they had been rudely interrupted at the diner by a waitress who turned out to be an old hit-and-run trick of Opie's. The food, however—as Opie promised—had been so totally worth it, but Fawn was of the belief that humiliating the bottle blonde with the ginormous tits in front of Opie and then her manager may have had something to do with it. Either way, it had been the best pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, Canadian bacon, hash browns, toast, coffee, and orange juice she's ever had in her life. After swearing never to put another morsel of food in her mouth again, the two of them had tooled around the city as her old man took her to some of his favorite spots and Fawn had had a wonderful time seeing them through Opie's eyes.

_It is so good to see him so relaxed and happy._

Fawn, who loved to travel and learn about new places, hadn't been on a real vacation in close to three years, so the outlaw biker quickly found himself giving in to his woman's pleas to do "touristy things." They ended up visiting Ocean World, as well as taking a ferry to Battery Point Lighthouse, which was a great compromise on Opie's part, considering that his last bout of sea sickness on her father's waterbed was neither a fond or distant memory. Having managed to make the round trip ferry ride without tossing his cookies, Opie found he was enjoying himself as much as Fawn was.

Doing a complete turnaround, Opie noticed, Fawn didn't seem to mind that their tour guide at the lighthouse seemed to have the hots for him. Sure, she was a frumpy middle-aged spinster who flip-flopped between being intimidated by and giddy for the brawny, tattooed biker in the midst of a rather ordinary-looking crowd of tourists, but still. Seeing Fawn take on the blonde waitress he couldn't remember bedding had intensified the fire in his gut burning for his old lady. Instead, Fawn thought it was cute and teased Opie about considering letting him bang Marge the Spinster Tour Guide only because it would be like winning the lottery for her and would probably be the highlight of her whole year.

Truth was, Opie was used to attracting that kind of female attention. He and any other brother of his would be lying if they said that part of the reason they joined the MC had nothing to do with the amount of tail they would get. Seeing Fawn attract the kind of attention that was unheard of in Charming, though, had the potential to irk Opie right into a fistfight or two. The simple fact was that Fawn and Opie managed to draw attention to themselves wherever they went, and not all of it was bad. Fawn grinned, recalling the couple in their 60's that had offered to take their picture in front of the lighthouse after watching Fawn fuss with the camera on her phone.

"You two make such an interesting, but adorable couple," The slender white-haired woman said after taking their picture. "You remind me of me and Eddie when we were your age."

"Yes, Vicky," Eddie replied with a laugh. "But I certainly don't remember you ever hanging all over me like this young lady does with her fella."

"Well, I don't recall you ever having those big cannons he has for arms either, but I still kept you around, didn't I?" Vicky retorted, as both Fawn and Opie tried to smother their laughter. "If I were her age, I'd be all over this young man, too." She winked.

Having spent a little time talking with the older couple, and thanking them for taking their picture, Opie and Fawn had headed back to his bike. With their stomachs rumbling again towards the end of the day—having skipped a mid-day meal—Opie had taken Fawn to a small strip of restaurants practically hidden from the rest of the city's tourist areas. The Seafood Shack was a small restaurant situated on the overlook above the north end of the beach. Pretty much hidden by an overgrown thicket of trees on the cliff, the place may have been a hole in the wall, but it was popular with the locals because the food was phenomenal. With customers seating themselves, they were lucky enough to grab an empty table outside in the corner facing the beach. There they sat with other locals and plowed through mountains of lightly-battered fried scallops and shrimp with homemade tartar sauce and broiled lobster tails served with melted butter and double-fried French fries, washing the whole lot down with several icy mugs of beer on tap for Opie and lemonade for Fawn.

Having fully stuffed themselves again, the lovers returned to their motel, but before Opie could convince his woman to join him for a "nap", Fawn had dragged him outside to sit on the beach to watch the sun go down.

"It was a pretty good day, huh?" Opie said as he played with the ends of Fawn's hair.

"Yeah, especially since I managed to keep myself from wiping the countertops with that skank this morning at breakfast." Fawn said as she feigned deep interest in the state of her manicure.

Fawn could feel the rumble of laughter deep in his chest. "I was wondering when I'd get my ass reamed about that." Surprisingly, Fawn had said absolutely nothing about the waitress who had made it quite clear that she had done more than just serve the outlaw biker a good meal and was hoping Opie had come back for seconds.

"I'd only take a chunk out of your ass if the last time you had been with that bitch was anytime _this_ summer." Fawn replied, much to Opie's relief. "I can't say I blame her trying, though. I know what you're good at, Redwood, so I know you must have laid some serious pipe if she remembered you from over four years ago."

Opie chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair, which was whipping about in the sea breeze. "Maybe, but I can't say I really remember too much about it. Or about that time in my life, for that matter."

Fawn nodded to herself. _I kinda figured that was the case_.

Four years ago had to be when Opie lost his wife. Having briefly discussed Opie's old lady with Jolene and, to some extent Ellie, Fawn knew that it had been a very bad time for the Winstons all around. Although she and Opie had talked about Donna in passing a few times, they had never really talked about her in detail, but having reached a turning point in their relationship after she opened up about Max, maybe now was the time to broach that tender subject.

"I guess that must have been shortly after Donna died." Fawn prodded gently.

Opie sighed and then pressed a kiss to the back of her head, one of his hands seeking hers, their fingers intertwining. "Yeah. I was pretty much a fucked up mess back then and losing my Pop too just put the icing on my shit cake. I was angry and bitter with everyone and everything. I needed to clear my head and I really believed that I couldn't do it in Charming, that it was for the best if I left, but—" He trailed off.

Fawn waited for him to continue and when he didn't, she reminded him that she was still listening. "But what, baby?"

"But I was wrong." He admitted and until that moment Opie hadn't realized how hard it was to admit that out loud to himself, but it was even harder admitting it to his significant other. "I was wrapped up in my own grief and I spent months on the road, never stopping in one place for too long—Eureka, Crescent City, Oregon. Then I worked my way back down the coast all the way to Baja. Instead of taking the last words my old man spoke to me to heart, instead of being there for my family, I ran away. I neglected my children, leaving them to deal with their grief all on their own. Truth was, I was a coward. I couldn't face my kids because I blamed myself—and others—for their mother's death."

"Like my Dad?" Fawn turned in his arms in order to look him in the eyes. Reaching out, she gently stroked his hair.

"Yeah." Opie acknowledged sadly. "It took a long while to finally pull my head out of my ass. Almost losing custody of my kids to my in-laws was the wake up call I needed. I still had a long way to go, but at least it made me realize that nothing was more important than Kenny and Ellie, not even my own grief. It has taken years for me to repair the damage I did to my family and to finally make peace with your Dad."

"I know it was really hard on him, what happened to Donna." Fawn said quietly.

"Apparently, it was hard on everyone. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I forgot that SAMCRO is a family and what happens to one person affects everyone." Opie shrugged his shoulders. "I was blindsided, you know? I just never thought that Donna and I would end up that way."

Fawn nodded as she squeezed his hand. "Tell me about her." She invited, holding her breath.

She could see his wry smile in the fading sunlight. "Donna? She was beautiful, smart. A really great mom. A good woman."

"She must have been a great old lady."

Opie paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, using Fawn's thumb to rub his lips before kissing her hand. "Donna was a great wife and mother, but she never really adjusted to being an old lady. I don't mean any disrespect to her, but living the Life was something that she fought against. It was hard for her."

"Really?" Fawn was surprised. "I never would have thought that. I mean, Jolene speaks of her in such endearing terms—"

"And she's right. Donna was a great friend and everyone who knew her loved her, but even Jo knows that life in the Club had been, at best, a difficult fit for her and that was mainly my fault."

Fawn's brow furrowed. "I don't understand, baby. How would it be your fault?"

 _And here's where it gets sticky_ , Opie thought _._

As close as he and Fawn had become over the past several months, he never really talked to her about the MC and what would be considered "Club business." Fawn had called him an outlaw so many times that he had taken for granted that she already knew that he didn't exactly trod the straight and narrow, but he had never explained exactly what the Club did to earn. That had been his greatest mistake with Donna, keeping her in the dark about his life until he felt she was fully committed to him and wouldn't back out.

In hindsight, Opie knew he had been unfair in making it difficult for Donna to opt out. He had compounded their situation by deliberately not being careful enough when it came to birth control and ended up getting her pregnant. What he should have done was come clean to Donna from the very beginning, allowing her to decide whether or not she loved him enough to accept the role SAMCRO played in his life. In the end, Donna had loved him; he had no doubt about that at all, but a part of her had to learn to love him _in spite_ of the Club and not for who he was because of it. Opie had loved her so much that he had to learn to accept that he would never be able to share the grittiest parts of his life with his old lady as a way of coping with it.

Now 18 years later, he had the chance to start all over again with a woman he loved and he was in danger of making the same mistakes again. Fawn deserved full disclosure, even if it meant that she would want out, but he needed to come clean about the Club or run the risk of having their relationship play out like it had with Donna.

Taking her small hand in his, Opie gripped it gently. "Donna and I were together for a couple of years before she got pregnant and we got married. I waited until just a few months before she got knocked up to tell her about the true nature of the MC. The omission of that truth put a whole lot of pressure on her, from me and from her parents, who were savvy to the fact that the Club wasn't just a bunch of Harley enthusiasts and mechanics."

"And that truth was what?" Fawn asked. "That SAMCRO's main source of income comes from running guns?"

Opie blinked once. Then twice. " _You know_?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Well, uh, yeah. I've known that since before I was a teenager." She shrugged her shoulders.

"What the fuck, Fawn? And you're just telling me this now?"

"I don't see what the big deal is." Fawn watched as her old man rubbed his hand over his face. "Are you okay, baby?"

"Uh no, I'm not. I've been sweating telling you this shit for weeks now and you've known all the fuckin' time?"

"My bad, but how was I supposed to know? I mean, I know I'm an outsider, but I guess I kinda thought that everybody _knew_ I knew." She explained.

"Did Tig tell you?" Opie asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Dad? Are you kidding? He'd cut out his own tongue before he discussed Club business with me. He didn't tell me shit." Fawn replied. "It was Colleen. She dropped that bit of knowledge on me and Dawn when I was around twelve."

Opie shook his head. "Why the hell would she tell a kid something like that?"

Fawn rolled her eyes. "Out of spite is my guess. By that time, I had had enough of living in Oregon. My grandparents had passed away and Colleen finally had her nursing degree and I couldn't understand why she wouldn't move us to Charming to be with Dad." She explained. "I was being a brat about it, actually, and that's when she told us that he was an ex-con and would always be nothing but a criminal. I didn't fully understand what running guns meant, but I figured it had to be bad if it was against the law. Looking back, I think the only reason she told us was to keep building a wall between us and Dad. Years later, when I got involved in my own bad shit, I figured that doing drugs and drinking was probably just as bad and when Dad came to see me after I O.D.'d, I figured that if he could forgive me for being a junky, the idea of him being a criminal shouldn't bother me and it never did. I love that shithead because he's my Dad. Nothing more, nothing less."

Fawn pulled herself up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around Opie's neck. "I have to admit that when you left on this last run I was scared shitless, Ope. I hate the thought of you ever being in danger because I don't want to lose you. Not to a prison cell and certainly not to a bullet, but I'm not gonna tell you how to live your life. I love you for who you are, for the man your life experience has made of you, and that man's not just a bad boy biker, but a man who loves deeply—his family, his Club and me. That's what's important to me, baby." Fawn whispered as she gently stroked his beard.

Opie swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. It was the first time he could recall ever hearing a woman whom he loved deeply tell him that she would support him and his commitment to SAMCRO because she loved him as he was. "I love you, baby," He whispered as he gently pulled her in for a soft kiss. "You have no idea how much, but I love you more and more each and every day."

* * *

The moonlight gleamed off the ocean, casting shadows in the darkened room as the sound of the waves lulled the couple wrapped in each other's arms on the queen-sized bed.

After their talk on the beach, Opie had carried Fawn back to their tiny motel room, where he made fervent love to her. This brief respite from Charming had done much by way of allowing the couple to open up to one another, making them realize just how important they were to each other. Having opened the sliding door leading to the deck to allow the night sea air into the room, the pair were now huddled under the blanket, finally sated from their lovemaking.

"Mmmm, this is really nice." Fawn said sleepily. "I'm so glad you found this place."

Opie grinned. "Even though bringing you here brought you face-to-face with my man-whore past?" He teased.

She raised her head to look him in the eye. "After meeting Emily Duncan, I can't say I'm surprised, even though I was pretty damn close to popping those over-inflated tits of hers."

"I'm glad you were able to restrain yourself." Opie laughed. "I'm sure the Club doesn't have anyone in the Crescent City PD on its payroll for me to bribe to get your ass out of jail."

"So, c'mon and dish. Did she really rock your world?" Fawn wriggled her eyebrows salaciously.

"I'm serious, babe. I'd be damned if I could remember. Every woman I slept with during that time is just one big blur. I would say I was seriously lonely and depressed, but we men are just fuckin' dogs. Let's just chalk it up to a severe case of Wandering Dick Syndrome and leave it at that, shall we?"

Fawn snorted with laughter. "Okay. I'm just glad to know that you were wise enough to wrap your junk. A tart like that probably has a lot of miles on her. It would have been a damn shame if you had caught something to make your dick shrivel up and fall off. Where would I be then?"

"Probably reacquainting yourself with your old friend BOB."

The two of them snorted with laughter. Finally getting herself under control, Fawn leaned back into her old man. "Well, even taking _Lola_ into account, I'm loving every minute of our first road trip. Maybe we can do this again after the salon's up and running. It's been a long while since my Dad took me riding, but I think I'm getting the hang of riding bitch again. You and Donna must have had a blast going on trips like these all the time."

"Actually," Opie started. "After our road trip to Reno to get married, we never really got the chance to do it again on the regular."

"Really?" Fawn was dumbfounded.

"We always planned to, but Kenny and Ellie came along pretty early in our relationship. By the time our first year of marriage ended, we were up to our asses in diapers and formula and that constant child rearing continued pretty much up until the day she died. We talked about hitting the road," Opie said, thinking about Donna's vow to him when they got married to ride through life with him. "Except for a couple of times, we never really did too much, though."

"Well, I love to travel, so as long as Lexie can make it without me down at the salon and I get advance notice, I'll work shit out so we can go wherever you want." Fawn promised.

In the dark, Opie grinned to himself. She was offering what he had always wanted, a partner to share his _entire_ life with. Looking back, it was plain to see that women like Lyla Dean and Emily Duncan could never have given him what he had really needed. In spite of claiming that she wanted to be with him and only him, Lyla was adamant about not leaving the porn business. And even though Emily had made it painfully obvious that she was looking to be his old lady, she had shown absolutely no interest at all in his kids. He was glad he had come to his senses and waited for the right woman to come into his life, albeit kicking and screaming and bitching and moaning at first.

The idea of children, however, made Opie pause. It was obvious to him how much Fawn cared about his kids. She seemed to relate to them on the same level as their Aunt Jo. But Fawn had never discussed whether she had a desire to have any children of her own. With all they had shared throughout the day, the SAMCRO VP figured that this was as good a time as any to get his woman's mind on the subject.

"So," He drawled slowly. "Speaking of kids—"

"Umm hmm," Fawn mumbled, her eyes slowly drifting closed.

"Do you want any?"

Fawn's body shot up in the dark so fast that her head clipped the bottom of Opie's chin, causing him to bite down on his lip. Hard.

"Oww, damn it!" Opie tasted the coppery saltiness in his mouth, signaling the fact that he was bleeding.

"Shit!" Fawn grabbed the crown of her head, rubbing at the sore spot. "What the fuck, Ope? You trying to give me a heart attack?"

"It was a simple question, Fawn. I wasn't expecting to be attacked." He winced as he probed the inside of his lip with his tongue.

"Oh, let me see." Reaching over to flip on the lamp next to the bed, Fawn got on her knees to gently probe her old man's lip. "Oh, don't be a baby. It's not all that. I thought you nearly bit your tongue off."

"Almost did, Big Red."

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting that line of questioning just as I was falling asleep." Fawn weakly defended herself.

"It was _one_ question," He replied silkily. "That you haven't answered." He eyed his woman. "So what's the deal?"

Fawn bit her lip as she examined Opie cautiously, but the expression on his face was unreadable.

_Shit, he's really good at that crap._

The fact was, Fawn was pretty sure where she stood on the subject of children. But with her history of foot-in-mouth disease, she wasn't sure whether or not she should come clean about how she felt.

 _You've got a real good thing going with Redwood now,_ inner-Fawn said cautiously. _You don't want to fuck it all up now by not being honest about your feelings._

 _There is that,_ Fawn thought. _Better to tell him how I feel rather than what I think he might want to hear._

Running her hands through her hair, she decided to just spit it out. "I don't want any."

Looking at her resolute expression, Opie nodded slowly. "Any particular reason why?"

"Because I'd probably suck at it." Fawn replied. "No, wait. I'd _definitely_ suck at it."

"Are you kidding me? How can you say that? After all the shit you've helped Ellie through, how can you possibly think you'd be a bad mother?"

Fawn sighed. "I just don't see myself as mother material, I guess. It's not like I exactly have a perfect track record with all the shit I've managed to get myself into."

"And out of." Opie reminded her.

"I know, but eleven years later, and it's still a daily struggle. Besides, all I have to base a mother/child relationship on is my own experiences with Colleen. Thanks, but no thanks. I cannot see myself doing that to an innocent child."

"I get, but I was thinking more along the lines of you and Tina."

Fawn angled herself to snuggle into her old man's arms. "Well, there is that, but that was years in the making and we're both adults. Babies—that's a whole other issue." She licked her lips nervously. "Are you asking me this because _you_ want—"

Opie held up a hand. "Let me stop you right there, babe. I love my kids a whole lot, but that being said, I've spent nearly seventeen years of my life raising them. While I think I'm still young enough to start over if that's what _you_ want, I can either take or leave becoming a father all over again." Opie grinned to himself as he felt the tension leave Fawn as she slumped in his arms in what was obvious relief. "Look, babe, I'm more concerned with how you feel about this. Twenty-nine is still a bit aways for you, sweetheart. You're still young—"

"You say that like you're Methuselah." Fawn snickered.

"I'm thirty-eight, so I might as well be. Sometimes I feel like a dirty and horny old man for taking up with you." Opie teased. "The point is, you may feel like you don't want kids now, but you might change your mind down the road and if you do, that's alright with me."

Fawn reached up to cup his face in her hands. "Let me stop you right there, Redwood. I may be a few years younger than ya, but I think I know my mind pretty damn well. Right now, I already have a baby on the way. Her name is _Take Five_ and I already love her to death. She's been a handful ever since I found out I was expecting and, in a few short weeks, she'll be here and she's gonna take up a lot of my time and energy, and I am looking forward to that. But in the end, you and the kids will always come _first_ to me. I can't see myself ever feeling the need to have a baby, not when I can spend my time enjoying my old man and growing old with him, but should I change my mind—"

"I'd be totally on board, baby. I want you to know that."

"I know, and I appreciate that." Fawn smiled. "I guess I'm lucky I don't have a mother desperately pressing me for grandchildren. I think Colleen would prefer me having an abortion rather than pushing out any biker spawn."

Opie gently massaged her back. "I'm sorry shit's so bad between you and your mom. When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"When I told her I was buying the salon. Tina thinks I should send her an invitation to the opening, but I know she won't come. After all, Dawn's not involved." She said quietly.

 _Damn Colleen_ , He thought exasperated. _What is it with mothers and daughters anyway_?

"I know the feeling. For the longest time, Mary and I were constantly at each other's throats. It actually took Donna's death to bring us closer together. At least you have Tina."

Fawn grinned at the thought of her number one cheerleader. "That I do. Now _she_ would be over the moon if I were to drop some Winston-Trager spawn on her doorstep for her to fuss over." She sighed. "I want to make sure we bring her back a souvenir. With all the drama lately, I really needed this little trip, but I felt awful for bailing on her at the last minute. It's gonna kill me when she leaves Charming for good, Ope."

"I wouldn't throw in the towel just yet, babe. Family shit in SAMCRO always has a way of working itself out." Opie assured her.

"You really think so?" Fawn asked hopefully.

"I know so."

* * *

The short, but sweet getaway was exactly what Fawn had needed. Not only had it provided a brief respite from the construction chaos down at the salon and the turmoil between Tina and SAMCRO, it had given her and Opie time to talk about not only their past, but about their future as well.

While Opie hadn't come out and actually said he wanted to put a ring on it—marriage and a house with a white picket fence—their conversations and his feelings on the subject of their relationship and where children fit into the big picture went a long way in making her feel secure in the knowledge that she was definitely Opie Winston's old lady. The fact was that as much as she loved him, she would never push for marriage and was quite happy he hadn't gone down that route in their discussions about the future. Although she saw herself being with Opie for the long term, she knew now that his relationship with his late wife, although a loving one, hadn't been perfect. With Fawn's own experience regarding marriage dominated by the disaster that had been her parent's relationship, Fawn was much more inclined towards the idea of keeping the status quo exactly where it was.

After spending a quiet moment on the beach, the pair said their goodbyes to the little world they had created for themselves and checked out of the motel mid-morning on Friday. It was Opie's plan to pull into Charming in time to drop Fawn off at Tina's house before heading over to the Clubhouse for Church.

Stretching her legs for a bit at a rest stop around mid-day, Fawn decided to call Tina at the salon to let her know of her imminent return. Fawn had a lot to share with her friend about her getaway with Opie and was looking forward to finally having their Girls' Night as soon as she got home. Tina was eager as well, but Fawn had the eerie feeling that something major had happened and Tina wasn't telling her about it. Although the older woman was happy that she was on her way home, Fawn couldn't escape the nagging feeling that Tina sounded off.

Several hours later, Opie pulled his ride to a stop behind Tina's Corvette, which was parked in the driveway of the Teller's old home. Fawn moaned as she slowly eased herself off the back of the bike. Between Opie keeping her active and busy between the sheets for the past three days and another seven-hour ride, she was stiff and sore and in desperate need of a hot soak.

"Ugh! Oww!" Fawn groaned as she used her hands to try and massage life into her extremely numb posterior. "My poor ass hasn't been this abused since—ever."

Grinning, Opie swung his leg over his bike and towered over Fawn. "Come 'ere, babe. Let me give you a hand with that." Pulling her close to him, Opie gave her a thorough working over with his huge hands, slowly bringing her butt cheeks back to life.

"Mmmm," Fawn moaned cheekily as the blood started flowing. Unfortunately, once that happened, the brief relief was quickly replaced by the sensation of pricking needles under her skin.

"Ouch, Redwood! Needles!" She complained. "Oh my God, that sucks."

Opie kissed the tip of her nose in an effort to soothe her pained face. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have you feeling a hell of a lot better in no time." He leered as he continued squeezing her ass.

"Uh-huh. I give you a few minutes and you're not making it to Church and I'm won't make it inside to see Tina, who I am sure is getting quite a show even as we speak." Pushing at his shoulders, Fawn finally managed to get out of her lover's embrace and grabbed one of the saddle bags. "Now get your ass off to the Clubhouse before your President comes looking for ya."

"I can come back later and pick you up." Opie offered. "Finish what we started."

Fawn chuckled as she shook her head. "We'll never finish with that shit. You're an animal," She teased. "Besides, I was planning on crashing here tonight. After all, you had me for three whole days. Aren't you tired of me yet, Redwood?"

Reaching out, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in for a long drawn out kiss. "I'll _never_ be tired of you, Big Red." He whispered.

"Good answer." She whispered right back. "Now get!" Fawn pushed him away.

Watching as her old man pulled out of the driveway and streaked down the street, Fawn grinned as she heard Tina's front door open, followed by a very familiar gallop. Turning around just in time, Rocco all but leaped into her arms as he placed his large paws on her shoulders and licked her face excitedly, yipping and barking in excitement.

"Down, you crazy mutt! I missed you too, but I was on vacation, not away fighting a war." Finally getting him to settle down on all four feet, Fawn turned up the walkway and saw her best friend standing in the doorway. As she drew closer to the front door, Fawn's eyes narrowed as she saw a flustered and fidgety woman nervously twisting the rings on her fingers.

 _What the fuck?_ Inner-Fawn questioned. _That's not a good sign_.

Before Fawn could even open her mouth to ask what was up, she found her arms full of a frantic and trembling woman. "Tina, my God, what's wrong?"

Pulling away, Fawn's eyes widened as she saw Tina's green ones filled with tears of panic and—astoundingly—joy.

"It's Jolene!" Tina nearly shrieked. "She's going to let me meet my grandchildren!"


	27. Meet the Tellers

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon the day Fawn decided she wanted to choke Tina. In all the years they have known each other, the older woman has never frustrated her more than now. With Fawn's own stomach doing cartwheels, today was not the day for Tina to be dancing on her last nerve.

"Tina, you need to stop this," Fawn ordered as she used a damp hand cloth to wipe away the beads of perspiration on the woman's brow. "You throw up one more time and I'm taking you to St. Thomas."

"I'll be fine," Tina managed to get out. "Now stop fussing over me."

"Yeah, right, like that's gonna happen." Fawn retorted, murmuring under her breath.

The two women were in the master bath, with Tina sitting on the edge of the oversized bathtub as her young friend ministered to her. It was the third time in an hour that Tina had lost the contents of her stomach, the meager tea and toast that Fawn had managed to force down her throat having quickly reemerged.

To be honest, Fawn couldn't blame her friend. After all, today she was meeting her grandchildren for the very first time. Fawn herself was still reeling from how things had worked out between Tina and Jolene. Before Opie and Fawn had taken off to Crescent City, it had been over a week since Tina's epic sit-down with Jolene. Tina had not shared a single iota of information about the meeting, including not telling Fawn that it had even taken place. Fawn had gathered that bit of Intel through the SAMCRO grapevine, namely Neeta.

Fawn had returned from her getaway determined to cop to the fact that she already knew about Tina's meeting with her estranged daughter and was prepared to give her the third degree about it. Luckily, she didn't have to as Tina greeted her at the front door with the joyful news that, as a result of their conversation, Jolene was willing to let Tina meet her grandchildren.

Fawn had made the resolution right then and there to never doubt her Redwood again. He had assured her that family shit in SAMCRO had a way of working itself out and boy, was he ever right about that shit! In the three days they had been gone, Tina went from persona non grata in Charming to an invitee at a SAMCRO family dinner.

It was all Fawn could do to keep from pinching herself to make sure she wasn't still asleep, cuddled up against Opie at the Crescent Beach Motel. Instead, she found herself standing in her friend's living room at a loss of what to do or say as Tina went from hysterical tears to hysterical laughter at the thought of meeting her daughter's family.

Tina had shuddered, letting out a deep breath as she had thrown herself into Fawn's arms. Again. "I can't believe she's going to let me see them! Jolene is going to let me meet my grandbabies!"

"I know. I heard," Fawn had nodded as she soothed her crying friend by gently stroking her back. "What I don't know is how the fuck this happened? Where did this come from?"

For the next couple of hours, the retelling of Tina's initial meeting with Jolene had dominated their girls' night. Although Fawn had decided to play dumb concerning her knowledge of the meet beforehand, she couldn't help but sit in truly astonished silence as Tina related all of the details.

"That's huge, Tina. You got through to your daughter, something you swore would never happen." Fawn had marveled. "I am so happy for you, but why would you keep this to yourself? Why didn't you tell me when it happened?"

Tina had looked away, ashamed that she had been caught keeping secrets from her friend again. "I know I should have told you, but when Jolene left that night, she was so confused and nothing had been resolved. She said she needed time to think and I was still trying to process it all myself—" Tina stopped and sighed. "I guess I didn't want to work myself up in case she decided she wanted nothing to do with me after all."

Fawn had grabbed Tina's trembling hand in both of hers and squeezed. "I guess I can understand, you damn heifer." She teased, making Tina smile through her tears of joy. "So tell me, when did Jolene contact you about seeing the kids?"

"About half an hour before you and Opie pulled up," Tina replied. "She admitted that this is a big leap of faith for her. She's scared that it'll all backfire and cause irreparable damage to her children. Jolene said she wasn't completely reconciled with everything we had discussed, but she sees that I am a different person. She's willing to let me meet her children and said we would take it one step at a time from there. I just can't believe that I've gotten this far with her and if that's all I end up getting in the long run, I will still be the happiest woman in the world!"

Tina went on to relate how the young SAMCRO Queen didn't want her children exposed to the truth about their past history, collectively or as individuals, because they were still too young to understand. As that was her only stipulation, Jolene expected that Tina would respect her wishes. Otherwise, Tina would find herself on the first bus out of Charming, but not before Jolene kicked her ass first.

"Sounds like she means it." Fawn had commented wryly.

"I have no doubt about that, but she has no need to worry. I never thought that I would _ever_ get this opportunity. I wouldn't jeopardize it for anything." Tina's lips trembled. "I've been invited over to the Teller home this Sunday."

"Sunday dinner?" Her young friend had gasped disbelievingly. "That's some serious shit, Tina. Those dinners are typically 'family only' events."

"Well, all I know is that I can't go alone. There's just no way that I can walk in there all by myself," Tina had lamented. "That's why you have to come with me."

Which was how Fawn had ended up spending part of her Sunday afternoon in Tina's bathroom, standing over her friend while she threw up trying to get Tina to calm the fuck down. Tina's nerves, however, had her spiraling out of control with fear. What she needed was a Xanax, but not only didn't Fawn have any, she knew Tina wouldn't take it even if she did. Now on wagon for 18 years, Tina refused to take any type of medication, especially anything that was of the mood-altering persuasion.

Wrapping an arm around her, Fawn moved her into her bedroom and got her settled on the bed. Standing in the doorway, Opie watched with concern as his woman tried to comfort the suddenly blubbering woman. This was going on for almost two hours now and at this rate, they would be late, something he knew from experience would not go over well with Jolene.

Walking over to the bedside, Opie crouched down to meet Tina's gaze. "You wanna tell me where the spunky little hell raiser Fawn's been bragging about all this time has gone off to 'cause I think she needs to get her ass back here pronto." Opie handed her a fistful of Kleenex he had grabbed from the box on the nightstand. "This is your big day, Grandma. You don't want to spend it in here bawling your eyes out, do you?"

Tina blew her nose energetically. "No, but I've wanted this for so long and now I—"

"And now that its here, you're terrified." The outlaw biker concluded. Seeing Tina's shaky nod, he took her hand in his. "Look, I ain't gonna lie. This shit ain't gonna be easy for you, but I know Jo. She wouldn't be inviting you into her home if she didn't want you there. She wants you to meet your grandkids, so just concentrate on that."

"But what about everyone else?" Tina asked with a sigh. "I'm sure that not everyone is waiting to welcome me with open arms."

The first person that came to mind was Gemma and Opie nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, so what? Tina, trust me when I tell ya that Jolene won't tolerate anyone losing their shit with you today, especially not in front of the kids, so just put that out of your mind, okay? Besides, Fawn and I will keep close by. Tig, Ellie, Juice, and Tiki will be there, too. You've got plenty of back up, Momma T." Opie stood up and pulled Tina off of the bed with him. "So stop stalling. Take your ass in there and let Fawn slap on some of that shit you ladies swear you need to wear before being seen in the daylight, and let's get a move on. We're running late."

Tina tried to do her best to smile optimistically, but failed miserably. Instead, she gave Opie a tight squeeze of gratitude before heading to the bathroom. Turning around, Opie found himself face-to-face with his woman, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and her blue orbs flashing as she stared him down.

"What?" He complained, thinking he was in the shit for taking a tough love approach with Tina.

However, the outlaw was quite surprised when Fawn walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck before pulling him into a long passionate kiss.

"Well," He drawled with a sexy smirk, allowing his large hands to make a home on her ass. "Tell me what I did to deserve that and I'll do it again."

Fawn smiled as she caressed his bearded face. "That was for being you, baby. Don't ever stop." She whispered before reaching up to nibble and bite on his lips again before pulling away. "We'll meet you by the car, Redwood."

Opie grinned as he watched her head back to Tina, her ass swaying delicately back and forth underneath the fabric of her wrap dress. "Shit, girl. You better."

* * *

Jolene looked at her watch for the fourth time in as many minutes.

"Babe, watching the clock isn't going to make Tina get here any faster." Her old man advised calmly as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

The couple was standing by the island in the controlled chaos that was their kitchen. With Gemma barking orders as Neeta rolled her eyes and muttered something about bossy women in _her_ domain, several old ladies hustled back and forth as they helped prepare for Sunday dinner at the SAMCRO Prez's home. Usually held once, maybe twice a month, family dinners were a Club tradition created in the early days of SAMCRO by its first matriarch Gemma Teller. It was a special time set aside to focus strictly on being family and the discussion of Club business emphatically prohibited. Over the years, these dinners had become as important as Thanksgiving and Christmas to the members and their families.

When Jax took over the Club from her father, Jolene was elevated to Queen of the charter, inheriting the responsibility of not only keeping her old man whole, but his Club as well. Although old ladies stayed out of Club business, Gemma had taught her the importance of keeping morale around the table high. Living the life of an outlaw biker wasn't easy and these family-oriented gatherings reminded SAMCRO that they were first and foremost brothers, a bond that was not only reinforced on a daily basis by blood and bullets, but occasionally with meatloaf and mashed potatoes as well.

What was on tap for today, however, was not the average family dinner. By bringing Tina Giamatti into her home to meet her children, Jolene was taking the first step in reconciling with her past, something she swore she would die first before ever doing. The young woman who had grown up in a Clubhouse surrounded by rough men wearing Reapers on their backs needed the support of her extended SAMCRO family now more than ever.

Realizing that his usually cool under fire old lady was a nervous bundle of energy, Jax decided to give her a break by removing her from the hot bed of activity in the kitchen. Stopping in the hallway long enough to give her a kiss and a playful squeeze on her ass, Jax pulled Jolene into the empty living room and sat her on the couch. The living room wouldn't remain empty for long, however, as in a few short hours the rest of his brothers and their families would fill up their home with laughter and conversation. Before that happened, Jolene had arranged for Tina to arrive first in order to be introduced to her grandchildren in private, without dozens of eyes gawking at Jolene's birth mother.

"She should have been here by now, Jax." Jolene said before gnawing on her bottom lip. "What if she's not coming?"

"Then it's her loss, darlin', but to be fair, she _is_ only ten minutes late." Jax replied calmly. "Tina's probably just as nervous as you are, Jo."

"I'm not nervous!" She argued. "What makes you think I'm nervous? Do I look nervous?" She quickly countered anxiously.

Jax chuckled. "No, babe." He lied. "You look beautiful, not nervous at all, but I'm sure Tina is, so maybe we can cut her some slack on the tardiness today, okay?"

Jax was determined to be strong for his old lady. She needed his support and Jax decided to not make her privy to his own misgivings about introducing Tina to their family. Although he was of the belief that Jolene needed to make peace with her childhood and past with Tina, he was still wary of inviting the woman that had caused his old lady so much pain into his home. Gemma had made her displeasure at the seemingly sudden turn of events vocally clear to him once she found out about Jolene and Tina's meeting. Although he had set his mother straight about staying out of his old lady's business and had warned her not to rock the boat during dinner, he had to admit to himself that he shared some of her fears—namely, not only that Jolene would end up getting hurt, but his children as well, and nothing was more important to Jax Teller than the well-being and happiness of his family.

But as he had promised, he was adamant about following Jolene's lead and had sat in this very room just the day before to help her prepare their children for the potential upheaval of life as they knew it. As a united front, he and Jolene had confirmed the identity of Fawn's new business partner. However, they had not been prepared for how well the kids had taken the news.

Abel, leaning back on his end of the sectional with his growing legs stretched out on the coffee table—a habit that pissed his mother off to no end—had grinned cheekily with his father's announcement. "Okay, and?" He smothered a laugh as he watched his bewildered parents. "We kind of figured that out already, Dad."

Snuggled in the crook of her older brother's arm, Maddy nodded wisely. "Yeah, I overheard that _weeks ago_ _,_ 'member, even though Mommy said different. Besides, Abel said that she looks a lot like you, Mommy. I esplained it all to TJ, but he don't quite get it yet."

TJ, who was sitting on his mother's lap grinned engagingly at his wide-eyed mother. Holding up two chubby fingers, he smiled. "Yes, I do. Maddy says we's got two grandmas now. Does that mean I get two presents for my birthday, Mommy?"

"Hey, smart looking out there, TJ." Abel called out. "I never even thought of that shit!"

"Abel!" Jolene admonished. "What have I told you about that kind of language around TJ?"

"Aw Ma, you might as well give it up. That ship has sailed." Abel waved a hand nonchalantly.

"Yeah, Mommy. Yesterday, TJ said 'ass'." Maddy spoke up.

"Uh huh, but which one of _you_ said it first?" Jolene asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Daddy." Maddy replied as a matter of fact as Abel rolled around on the couch laughing at the exasperated look on his father's face. "Is it ratting if I'm just answering Mommy's question? If it is, I'm sorry, Daddy." She looked at Jax with big doe eyes.

"You're his only daughter, Maddy, so even if you are a rat, he'll forgive ya." Abel grinned as his younger brother sat on his mother's lap repeating his suddenly new favorite word over and over.

Despite being thrown under the bus by his kids, Jax had been grateful for the distraction as it let him gather his thoughts for the rest of the discussion. Both he and Jolene had decided to keep the explanation simple as to why they were only learning about her now as Tina had been in town for almost a month. Jax related the truth simply, explaining that when Jolene was young, her mother had gone through some hard times and it had been difficult for Tina to take care of her, so their mother had come to Charming to live with their grandfather. Eventually, Jolene returned to live with her mother as a teenager, but things didn't work out too well and Jolene hadn't seen her again until she came to help Fawn out at the salon.

Jax could see that both Abel and Maddy were chewing over what he had said. What he told them was the truth—a sanitized version of the truth, but the truth nonetheless and he hoped that it would be enough to satisfy his children's curiosity for now.

Now with his wife in his arms, Jax bent down to tenderly kiss her lips. "The hard part's over, Jo. The kids are excited and everything's gonna be fine, babe."

"And Gemma?" Jolene prodded doubtfully. She knew her mother-in-law probably had a lot to say, and it unnerved Jolene that she hadn't heard any of it yet.

Jax shook his head. "Not a problem. I already spoke to her and she'll be on her best behavior."

_I hope._

* * *

But Gemma Teller-Morrow was not a happy old lady.

Keeping herself busy in the kitchen by running rough shod over the other old ladies was the only way the dowager Queen was able to keep a lid on her emotions. Since finding out about their unexpected-to-her _guest_ , Gemma had been itching to get Jolene alone, but after Jax had read her the riot act before she even had the chance to step into the house, he was keeping close tabs on his old lady.

Gemma was not a woman known for her lack of self-confidence. She knew her place within her family and community. As a matter of fact, just recently she had restarted her charitable works for the town of Charming after the local Chamber of Commerce and the Preservation Society had groveled enough for her to return to the fold. It was undeniable that, as a result of her re-involvement, she was instrumental in the recent surge of donations coming in for the Save the Gardens project. Gemma found herself newly invigorated by her charity work, with a major plus coming in the form of fostering the town's goodwill towards SAMCRO once again. Surprisingly, Gemma had managed to enjoy getting to know and working with the Chair of the Gold Circle Club Rita Roosevelt, who just so happened to be the Sheriff's wife. The love they both shared for gardening allowed them to form a bond of sorts, despite the fact that their husbands operated on either side of the law.

Business was going well for the Club and Tig was now fully recovered from the attack that had almost killed him. Gemma found she was genuinely happy when his daughter—and her new hairstylist—had decided to stay in Charming. The young woman had become intimately involved with the SAMCRO VP and it was clear to see that Opie was a new man. It had given Gemma joy to see her surrogate son finally find happiness and love again.

 _I should have known it was all too good to be fuckin' true_ , Gemma gritted her teeth as she used a large knife to savagely chop up cabbage for the coleslaw.

As far as she was concerned, Jolene Teller was _her_ daughter. The last thing either of them needed was for some worthless excuse of a mother—an interloper to boot—to come between them. The relationship that Gemma had with her daughter-in-law had never been an easy one, but it was one that was steeped in lots of love and mutual respect. From the time six year old Jolene had taken her youngest son Thomas under her wing, Gemma had made a special place for her in her heart.

Their relationship had changed immensely after Jolene hit puberty, especially when it became obvious that her nearly life-long infatuation with Jax had turned into love and that it was reciprocated. As much as Gemma had feared Clay killing Jax for getting involved with his underage daughter, the truth was Gemma could see the potential in Jolene and knew she'd make her son the perfect old lady, even if she'd had a hard time letting go of her boy. Eventually, Gemma had managed to step aside and watch Jolene morph into a good Queen for the next generation of SAMCRO and she liked to think she had something to do with that.

Now _this_ woman had come to Charming in what Gemma knew was an obvious attempt to worm her way back into Jolene's life. It was nearly destroying Gemma to think that somehow she would be usurped in Jolene's heart and in the hearts of her grandchildren.

 _And then there's Clay_.

Dumping the cabbage into the large mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients, Gemma used a large spoon to work the mixture together with the dressing as she thought about Clay's relationship with Valentina.

While JT had been alive, Gemma had eyes only for her old man, the father of her boys, but even then she was well aware of Clay's infatuation with the younger woman. JT had mentioned several times how enamored Clay had been of the raven-haired beauty with seafoam green eyes. He had no doubt that this one would be the one to tame his best friend, getting him to finally settle down with an old lady.

Remembering the one time she had met Valentina at the SAMTAC Clubhouse, Gemma knew the moment they were introduced that she hated the woman. Thinking back on it, Valentina hadn't been overtly flirtatious with JT, but Gemma certainly didn't like the way her old man had looked at the young woman. Rumor had it that when Clay was away, Valentina had no problem in finding other brothers to play with. Even though in the back of her mind Gemma knew that was partly Clay's fault for not crowing her, she was glad he hadn't because by doing so he would have brought her back to Charming and who knows what trouble Valentina might have stirred up in the mother charter.

Maybe Gemma had been wrong to encourage JT to send Clay to SAMTAC that weekend, but if Clay hadn't made that unexpected trip to Tacoma he might not have found out until it was too late just what type of woman Valentina really was. After all, it was her job as the SAMCRO President's Queen to keep their family tight knit and whole.

Now, even with decades passing, the bitch was back and looking better than ever. So good in fact that had Gemma had been forced to make a special trip to a San Leandro day spa. Before she would even contemplate being in the same room as that woman, Gemma wanted to make sure she looked her best and had gotten the full-body work up . Fortunately, Fawn had already given her hair a touch up right before Tina's arrival in Charming so she didn't have to step foot in the shop.

She had taken great care in getting dressed for today's gathering as well and knew she looked hot. Definitely hot enough to stoke the fire in Papa Bear, Gemma had ended up giving Clay quite a ride before repairing the damage and heading over to her son's home. Gemma smiled at her own reflection in the glass of one of the French doors that led into the backyard. She looked good, damn it. Catching her old man's eye, she watched as he waved the hand that was holding the beer she had allowed him to have as he winked and leered at her before turning back to their talkative granddaughter. Grinning, Gemma sashayed back to the island to continue her work.

Gemma loved her son and respected his authority as not only the MC's President, but as the head of his family. _Jax may have laid down the law as to how he expects Tina to be treated in his house, but all bets are off if that bitch has any delusions of snatching back my man_!

* * *

Slamming the car door behind her, Fawn went around to the passenger side. Pulling at the door handle, she rolled her eyes somewhat sympathetically at her passenger, Tina's stiff figure practically frozen with her hands balled into tight fists on her lap.

"Don't make me have to use my key to open this door, Tina." Fawn glanced over as Opie, who had parked his ride behind her car, made his way over. "Babe, I don't think she can hear me. Maybe she's gone catatonic."

Bending over, Opie tapped on the window and after about ten seconds, Tina finally snapped out of her trance, her wide nervous eyes meeting the outlaw biker's deep green ones.

"Tina, open the door." Opie had to repeat his request several times before his calm baritone finally made it through to her. Managing to unclench her fists, Tina unlocked the door. Pulling it open, Opie held out a bear-sized paw for her. "Come on, Momma T. It's time to meet the Tellers."

"Oh shit," She moaned, her face going deathly pale. Taking several deep breaths, Tina only barely managed to pull herself together before accepting his hand and stepping out of the car.

Fawn gave an inward sigh of relief. For a minute, she thought Tina was going to bail and if she had, she would regret it for the rest of her life. Putting an arm around her surrogate mom, she gave her a long hug. "I'm right here and so is Ope, so you're gonna get through this. And not for nothing, but you look fantastic."

And Fawn was right. Tina had spent practically every free moment she had picking out the right outfit before finally settling on a look, along sleeveless maxi dress was in a warm autumn print of orange and gold. With a modest V-neckline and strappy peep toe sandals of forest green, Tina looked beautiful and elegant, while keeping sexy to a minimum. At least that's what she hoped. She didn't want to look slutty, but she didn't want to look like an old grandmother either.

Despite the more modest look for her friend, Fawn thought she look great and hoped that her appearance would bolster her confidence. Looping her arm into the crook of Tina's she gave her friend a comforting squeeze. "Time to make your debut, Grandma." Fawn smiled reassuringly as she marched them up the Tellers' walk and to the front door, her giant Redwood protectively bringing up the rear.

* * *

The doorbell echoed throughout the house and an immediate silence fell over the group of individuals in the Teller kitchen as all eyes focused on Jolene.

Maddy, who was sitting on her Papa's lap at the head of the casual dining table, piped up. "That's my new grandma." She said with a child's logic. Scrabbling down off Clay's lap, the young girl headed towards the front door. "I'm gonna get the door."

But her father quickly scooped her up in his arms. "Hold on, Mad." Jax said. "Maybe Mommy wants to be the one to open the door." Standing next to Jolene, he could hear her swallow the lump in her throat as she looked up at him with wide terrified eyes. "I'll come with." He whispered reassuringly.

Reaching out, Jax grabbed hold of his old lady's hand, who had their youngest son in her arms, and headed towards the front door, with Abel following and Clay, Gemma and Bobby on their heels.

Mary, who was sitting at the table with a couple old ladies, got up from her chair. "I think it might be a good idea for us to relax out on the patio before dinner. What do you think, Neeta?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." She replied, grabbing a pitcher of her famous California Ice Tea.

As Neeta and the group of women headed out back, Jax and his entourage had finally reached the front door of beveled glass, and he could make out the three figures standing on his porch. Gently nudging his old lady forward, Jax stood back and watched as his old lady threw back her shoulders, straightened her back, and with an air of regal grace opened the door.

"Hey, sorry we're a little late. It's all my fault. I had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction." Fawn babbled, lying with a straight face as she met the eyes of the friend she had not spoken to in more than three weeks.

Jolene's clear green eyes acknowledged Fawn's babbling and then met Tina's, but she noted that they were frozen on the precious blond bundle in her arms. Seeing the already moist eyes of her birth mother, Jolene was deathly afraid that she herself was going to start with the waterworks first. This introduction to her children was going to be far more emotional than she had bargained for.

"No problem. Glad you made it. Come in." Stepping aside, Jolene opened the door wide to let them in.

Tina, who had finally managed to pull her eyes away from her youngest grandson, had glanced past Jolene to see Jax holding an adorable wide-eyed little girl and standing next to his father was her oldest grandson Abel, whose hands were shoved into the pockets of a pair of extremely baggy jeans.

But the Teller family was not alone.

Tina swallowed the sudden lump in her throat as she spotted Clay, Gemma, and a patch Tina had come to know was Tiki's old man Bobby Munson from the pictures Fawn had shown her. While both Clay and Bobby seemed reasonably composed, Tina noted the battle light in Gemma's dark brown eyes.

The group walked into the Tellers' living room and, for once, the room was quiet. Too quiet for Jax's liking. He could feel the tension and was about to open his mouth when a small voice piped up.

"You look just like Mommy," Maddy said, addressing Tina, a wise look on her face. "'Cept your hair's shorter."

Tina moistened her lips and cleared her throat. "Yes, it is. And you look just like your mother."

"So that makes you my grandma." Maddy continued.

"That's right."

"Well, my name is Maddox Gemma Teller. Mommy named me after my other grandma, but everybody calls me Maddy, 'cept Daddy. He calls me Mad. What am I supposed to call you?"

 _Here's the tricky part,_ Tina thought as she noted Gemma's grim stance. "Why don't you just call me Tina for now? Is that okay?"

_Maybe one day you can call me Nana. I would really like that._

"Okay." Pointing to her mother, Maddy made short work of the introductions. "That's my little brother TJ. Say hi, TJ."

The little boy with a mop of blond curls, who had been staring at Tina with rapt attention, suddenly folded his hands over his eyes and snuggled into the crook of his mother's neck. After a few moments, however, he did peep at Tina from behind the widely spaced fingers of his hands and finally said, "Hi."

Maddy waved her brother's antics off. "He's just pretending to be shy. Don't let him fool you, though cuz he's not. He talks _way_ too much. And later, he's prolly gonna ask you for a present, just so you know, now that you're our grandma and all."

Tina heard a muffled laugh and looked over to see Bobby Munson clearing his throat.

"I don't think I'll have a problem with him asking." Tina replied with a soft smile.

"And that's my big brother, Abel." Maddy said proudly. "I know you saw him already, cuz he told me."

Stepping around his father, Abel walked up and extended a hand to his new grandmother and flashed her a warm and bright smile.

Tina hesitated and, looking at her daughter, who nodded her consent, took her grandson's hand in hers. She was experiencing a flood of emotions and in spite of trying to hide it, Abel could see that the woman was on the verge of crying. Before Jolene realized what her son was going to do, she watched as he tenderly pulled the older woman into his arms. Amazed as she saw tears spill down Tina's cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her grandson, Jolene barely noticed her own tears as Jax wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

"Welcome to the family, Grandma." Abel whispered into Tina's ear.

* * *

Sitting around the large formal dining room table, Jolene watched as her family dug into all the delicious food prepared by her and all the SAMCRO old ladies. Looking down at her plate piled with food she didn't even remembering serving herself made her queasy as her stomach did flip-flops. Her hand suddenly flew up and landed on Jax's forearm, stopping him from dropping a spoonful of mashed potatoes on her already heaping plate.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, taking the bowl away from him.

"You need to eat something, darlin'." Jax reasoned. "The only thing I've seen you put into your mouth all week is cup after cup of black coffee . . . well, that and a very grateful old man." He teased, forcing a sexy grin out of his old lady. "All that caffeine and no food can't be good for your heart, babe." He reminded her gently.

"Okay, okay," Jolene nodded as she picked up her food-laden plate and grabbed Jax's still-empty one sitting in front of him. "But switch with me. Nobody likes a fat old lady."

To say that the afternoon had been an emotional one for Jolene and the rest of her family, including Tina, was an understatement. After wiping away the tears, Tina had been introduced to Jolene's Uncle Elvis, a true lover of all women regardless of color, size, or shape. She was extremely grateful that the man she loved like a father had acted like the gentleman outlaw biker that he was, managing to speak kindly to the woman he used to refer to as "a fuckin' piece of shit junky whore." Over the course of the afternoon, the rest of the SAMCRO officers had followed suit, treating Tina respectfully, and their old ladies being equally as welcoming.

Gemma, on the other hand, was another matter altogether. Although her surrogate mother was civil, Jolene could see that the effort was costing her dearly. Out of all three of her parents, Gemma was the only one who still couldn't understand why Jolene would even want to make the effort to repair her estranged relationship with Tina.

Jolene couldn't expect Gemma, or anyone else for that matter, to understand the "why", especially since she was still trying to figure that out herself. She couldn't pinpoint exactly what had changed in her, but she did know that Jax had been right and she also knew that as a parent, she would do anything for their children. For their sake, Jolene was determined to look ahead to the future, while leaving the painful past in the rearview.

From what she could tell, so far dinner seemed to be going well. Tina was seated near the center of the table on Jolene's side, sandwiched between Fawn and Opie, with Juice, Tig, and Tiki seated across from her.

Jolene watched with a hint of a smile as she noticed the pains that her old man's SAA was taking to make her birth mother feel comfortable. Tina, having made it through the introductions, the hardest part of all, seemed finally relaxed in her own skin. She was proving to be somewhat dynamic and quick-witted, if the shouts of boisterous laughter surrounding her were anything to go by. Her heart tightened as she noted with pride that her oldest son, seated next to his Uncle Opie, had turned on the Teller charm and had managed to insert himself into the lively conversation quite a bit, which made Tina seem more at ease.

"Everything is fine, darlin'," Jax whispered into her ear. "But you might want to cut up TJ's chicken before he starves to death."

Jolene was shocked to realize that she had been so completely engrossed in her own thoughts that she had neglected to feed her youngest. Quickly turning to him, she saw that the young boy had given up on his mother and had picked up the closest thing to him. He was holding a chicken thigh in his small fists and was doing a fine, albeit messy, job of feeding himself.

Giving her head a little shake of annoyance directed at herself, Jolene suddenly found her mouth smothered by her old man's soft, warm lips. As he continued to plunder her mouth, Jolene became aware of the hoots and catcalls that were steadily getting louder and louder before Jax broke away, letting her catch her breath.

"Tha's my Jackie Boy!" Chibs yelled, his beer hoisted high up in the air. "Tha best way to shut a woman up from worryin' is to choke her with ye tongue."

"Asshole," Jolene murmured under her breath, as her face colored at all the attention, including from Tina, who was smiling at the antics of her old man.

"You know you love me," Jax whispered with a mischievous gleam in his bright blue eyes. "And Chibs is right. You worry too damn much, babe."

Jolene sighed. "You're right, you're both right," She whispered back. "I _do_ worry too much and I _do_ love you." Jax smiled as he dropped another kiss on her lips. "I don't know what it is, Jax, but as happy as everyone seems to be, I just don't feel right. Like I still have unfinished shit."

"You do, babe." Jax said before taking a sip from his bottle of beer, his head nodding in Fawn's direction as she excused herself to use the restroom. "Maybe you need to fix that." Looking from Fawn back to her old man, Jolene shook her head with a scowl on her face. "Hey, don't get mad at me because I know my woman." He smiled cockily.

* * *

From just inside the door leading to the backyard in the kitchen, Jolene stood unnoticed. She was watching Fawn, who was leaning against one of the columns at the edge of the deck. Her piercing blue eyes never left Tina as she sat with Abel, Maddy, and TJ at one of the patio tables on the lawn. Jolene couldn't help but smile to herself, realizing how protective the young redhead was of her friend Tina.

Once Jax had so astutely pointed out just what remained for her to finish, Jolene couldn't stop thinking about her conversation with Neeta after Abel got caught at the salon. Neeta had said many things to her that day that had hit home. Nothing, however, irked Jolene more than hearing her own friend say that she needed to stop resenting Fawn for the relationship she got to have with Tina that should have been hers.

 _Maybe because the truth does hurt after all_ , Jolene finally admitted to herself.

For the past several weeks, Jolene hid behind her misplaced anger, saying she couldn't forgive Fawn for bringing Tina to Charming. Truth was, Jolene knew that Fawn had done so with no malice intended. With Tina keeping the truth a closely guarded secret, there was no way Fawn could have known that Tina had once been a mother, least of all her own.

So once again, Miss Neeta Benson was right. Knowing that Tina and Fawn had been so close for so many years while living in Seattle, Jolene felt like her five year old self all over again, not understanding why she went unloved when Tina was clearly capable of loving Fawn like a daughter. That's when all her repressed memories had come flooding back, reminding Jolene that at one time, before drugs had ravaged her life, her mother had loved her. Whatever remained to be resolved between her and Tina, Jolene decided, had nothing to do with Fawn. If anything, Jolene should be grateful to the woman she had considered a friend for supporting her birth mother in her sobriety.

Feeling a gentle hand on her arm, Fawn let out a yelp as she was startled out of her own thoughts. "Oh shit," She stammered. "Uh, hey, Jolene."

"Hey," Jolene nodded towards Tina and her children. "They seem to be getting along pretty well."

"Yeah, they are." Fawn sighed. "Jolene, what you're letting happen here—it really means a lot to her."

"I know." Jolene nodded. "It means a lot to me, too." She admitted as she ran a hand through her hair. Taking a deep breath, Jolene cut to the gist. "Listen, Fawn, I really owe you an apology." She started, but Fawn was shaking her head.

"No, Jolene, you don't—"

"I do, Fawn. Believe me, I do," Jolene insisted. "If you're free sometime this week, maybe we can get together for coffee and talk everything over." She suggested. "For now, I just wanted you to know that I—I really missed you."

Fawn looked down at her friend and saw the emotion on her face. "I know. I really missed you too. I'm so sorry—" She started, but Jolene cut her off.

"No, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault, what happened. I'm just too damn stubborn and it took me a while to accept that."

Fawn shook her head. "You had every right to be angry, hurt. It's not every day that—"

"You come face-to-face with your POS egg donor?" Jolene gave her a slight smile. "That may have been what I thought was the case, but the fact is that, after 17 years, I didn't come face-to-face with Valentina. I actually met Tina Giamatti for the first time. It's taken me a while to wrap my head around that."

Fawn felt her heart swell with joy for Tina and for Jolene. "But you finally did because you're a special woman, Jolene."

Thinking how happy Opie seemed lately, Jolene smiled softy. "So are you. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive." Fawn said, fighting back the tears as the two women wrapped their arms around each other.

Tig reached over to nudge his President, directing Jax's and his VP's attention to their women sharing an embrace.

"See," Tig boasted. "Told ya there was nothing to worry about. I _knew_ they'd get their shit together, eventually."

"Thank God," Jax heaved a sigh of relief. "I know some might not agree," He continued, casting an eye towards his mother, who had isolated herself with Neeta and Mary at the far end of the yard. "But I think this is the best possible outcome for this whole Tina situation."

"I couldn't agree with you more, brother." Ope replied. "Now that Fawn and Jolene have kissed and made up, ya think we can keep this family angst bullshit to a minimum? I mean, Angry Fawn: hot as hell. Depressed Fawn: not so much."

"Weren't getting laid, huh?" Jax smirked.

"I was, but I wasn't getting nearly as much ass as I wanted, bro." Opie responded, cheekily. "Best thing I coulda done was take her to Crescent City. It must have been the sea air, man, but I'd be damned if we made it out of bed after the first day."

"Okay, did you two assholes suddenly forget that I'm sitting right here?" Tig complained, exasperated. "Do I really need or want to hear about Fawnzy's love life in detail? Unequivocally, no, I fuckin' do NOT."

As the three men continued to laugh and talk, none of them had any idea that this was just the calm before the storm.

* * *

Now sitting in the Tellers' backyard after dinner, Tina was completely smitten and totally in love with her grandchildren.

The embrace she had shared with Abel when she first arrived seemed to be the signal that his younger siblings had been waiting for. Maddy had quickly slipped out of her father's arms and made her way over to Tina. Watching his older brother and sister from behind his little fists, soon TJ was asking his mother to put him down.

Having been released from Abel's embrace, Tina had dropped down to the floor on her knees to put herself at eye level with her youngest grandchildren and suddenly found both of her arms filled with Maddy and TJ. As she wrapped her arms around them, inhaling the sweet baby scent of TJ and the scent of pink bubble gum from Maddy, Tina struggled to get her tears under control as she felt their small arms wrap around her neck.

Pulling away from her new grandma, Maddy grinned at her. "You sure do cry a lot. Mommy does that too sometimes."

Tina had smiled at the young girl through her tears. "It's something we girls do on occasion."

"Not me!" The young tomboy said stoutly. "I'm SAMCRO."

Suddenly, TJ reached up to put his small hands on either side of Tina's face. His blue eyes were inquisitive as he closely examined her.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tina said softly as she saw his puzzled expression.

"It's cause you look like Mommy." Maddy announced.

"Mommy?" TJ asked, somewhat confused as his eyes roved over her face.

"No, dipstick—" Maddy started.

"Mad," Her father warned.

"Sorry, Daddy," She replied quickly. "That's Tina, our grandma." Maddy said, suddenly scrunching her nose and pursing her lips in thought. "You know, I think we should just call you Nana, so he don't get you confused with our first grandma." Turning her head, Maddy met Gemma's brown eyes. "What do you think, Grandma?"

 _I think I want to puke_ , Gemma thought bleakly. But now was not the time to lose it, not when her grandchildren were looking right at her and especially not after her son Jackson had so thoroughly laid down the law, poo-pooing the possibility of her losing her shit at today's family gathering.

"I think that makes sense." Gemma croaked thinly, wishing she had something to drink, preferably with lots of alcohol in it, to help her wash away the sudden bile in her throat.

"See," Maddy said beaming. "Grandma agrees and she's pretty smart. Okay, TJ, This is Nana. Say 'Hi, Nana'."

Smiling widely, the youngest Teller, who did everything his sister commanded, dutifully obeyed. "Hi, Nana!" He practically bellowed, and Tina found that she was tearing up again.

Looking up at her daughter standing in the protective embrace of her husband, Tina was surprised to see that she wasn't the only weepy one in the room. Fortunately, Jax and his sidekick Opie quickly got everyone laughing with their back and forth, which went a long way in easing the emotional tension of this first meeting.

With the worst of the introductions over, being introduced to the rest of SAMCRO and their old ladies was a piece of cake. Everyone had been extremely welcoming, which made for a wonderful dinner experience, allowing Tina to relax and let her naturally exuberant nature shine through. Now, as everyone sat outside in the backyard relaxing, Tina was comfortably situated at one of the patio tables having an intimate conversation with her grandchildren.

Tina was amazed at how intelligent and well-mannered Jolene's children were, each one quite precocious and rambunctious in their own little way. Unlike, the SAMCRO adults, however, they had no preconceived ideas about their new grandmother. She was sure that if the history of their mother's relationship with her was known by them, it was entirely possible that—at least Abel and Maddy—would have no interest in knowing her. For this and for so many other reasons, Tina was extremely grateful to Jolene.

Speaking with the Teller children, it was becoming clear that each child had their own distinct personality. For example, young Abel was a chip off the old block, not just in looks, but in temperament as well. Maddy was a pistol and a real livewire, who obviously worshipped her older brother and already had a deep love for her father's Club. TJ was indeed a little chatterbox, as Maddy had warned, but was as cute as a button. As the youngest Teller, he obviously had his mother under his little thumb.

Wanting to learn more about her school-age grandchildren, Tina engaged them in conversation and was pleasantly surprised to see how well-spoken Abel was in particular. She was sure that he was probably an extremely bright student, especially if his teacher mother had anything to do with it, and was as charming and handsome as his outlaw father. Tina had no doubt that Abel, who was practically a teenager, was probably extremely popular with his female classmates.

Maddy, dressed in a pair of jeans and a faded SAMCRO t-shirt, practically screamed tomboy. She made it quite clear that she didn't play with dolls or like to dress up and that her best friend was a boy her age named Mobi and that they spent most of their free time down at the garage learning how to fix "cages". It was quite possible that TJ, on the other hand, with his endless questions and inquiries, could completely bypass his biker heritage and become a lawyer when he grew up.

She was having a great time, but Tina had to admit that being interrogated by three children at once was no picnic. Three savvy and wise beyond their years SAMCRO children was damn near terrifying.

"So how long are you gonna stay in Charming?" Abel asked, his bright green eyes locking with Tina's. "You've been around town for nearly a month. You don't plan on leaving anytime soon, do you?"

"Well, I—" Tina hedged.

"Yeah," Maddy interrupted. Sitting on the patio table in front of Tina, she crossed her arms and eyed her grandmother with narrowed blue-green eyes. "We just met you."

"The thing is I actually live in Seattle, but—"

Sitting on the other side of Tina, TJ pulled his thumb out of his mouth, a new habit his mother was trying to break him of. "Where's Sabattle?" He inquired.

"It's in Washington," Tina replied as she reached out to stroke his soft blond curls. "It's a long way from here."

Abel planted his elbows on his knees. "That's not too far away from the Club's Tacoma charter. Not to be rude, but why the heck would you want to go back there? All it does is rain and shit."

"Shit!" TJ said happily.

"You're gonna get it now, idiot." Maddy shook her head as she looked at Tina. "Please don't tell on Abel. He's my big brother and all, but sometimes he's not too bright."

"Shut up, squirt." Her brother ordered. Turning back to Tina, Abel flashed her a killer smile. "You still haven't answered the question. You're not going to go back to Asswipe, Washington are you? Not when you have three new grandkids to spoil?" He wriggled his eyebrow knowingly.

"Presents!" TJ crowed.

 _Hell's no, I certainly don't want to go. I want to spoil you kids rotten_ , Tina thought but couldn't say out loud. Just because she had been given this opportunity to meet them didn't mean that she was a bona fide part of her daughter's family. She wasn't about to jeopardize this budding relationship by making presumptions.

"The plan is for me to work with Fawn to get the salon up and running. That's going to take a little time, so no, I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Abel gave her an approving nod. "Good."

"You like all that girly jazz?" Maddy inquired, her nose wrinkled.

Tina smiled, grateful to get off the subject of her time in Charming. "I do. It's a lot of fun."

"I think it's cool, if it makes you feel good. I personally think chicks look better without all that goopy, girly crap, like Ma."

"Mommy wears make up." Maddy said in a know-it-all tone.

"Yeah, but she doesn't overdo it. She doesn't need to." Abel replied, making Tina smile at the admiration for his mother that was clear in the young man's voice.

"That is true," Maddy conceded. "She never looks like those women always hanging around the Clubhouse."

"Mommy pretty." TJ added, nodding his head to emphasize his point.

"Yes, she is." Tina chuckled prettily. "Speaking of the salon," She turned to Abel. "Did you get into trouble—"

"For stopping by the shop?" Abel shrugged. "Nah, but Ma wasn't exactly happy about it. We made up, though. No big deal."

"Well, I'm glad she wasn't too upset because I'm really glad to be here, getting to know all of you."

"Good," Maddy piped up. "I guess that means you can come to Big Otto's party too, right, Mommy?" She directed the question at her mother as Jolene and Fawn approached the group.

Looking up at her daughter's wide eyes, Tina realized that Maddy had just put her mother in a compromising situation. "Oh, Maddy, I don't think—"

But the little girl interrupted. "You have to come, Nana. _Everybody's_ coming because Uncle Otto's coming home. He was in jail, you know." Maddy stage-whispered. "He's coming home and Mommy is throwing a big party to welcome him and you should be there too, right Mommy?"

Making the decision to introduce Tina to her children had been a pretty big step for Jolene. However, it was going to take a minute for the rest of the family to get used to her being around, especially Gemma. Throwing Tina into the deep end of the SAMCRO pond was, however, never Jolene's intention. After all, it would be somewhat cruel to fling the woman back into the midst of a group of hardcore bikers. But with her middle child's logic and ever-so-big mouth, the decision to ease Tina into SAMCRO was pretty much taken out of Jolene's hands.

"Of course, she can come." Jolene directed her gaze at her birth mother. "It's next Saturday at the Clubhouse. It would be the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the rest of the Club and their families."

Looking up at her daughter, Tina moistened her suddenly dry lips. "I'd love to come."

As she continued to talk with Jolene, Fawn and her grandchildren, although giddy with happiness, Tina still managed to say a prayer that she would survive meeting SAMCRO in all of its glory at the upcoming bash.


	28. The Return of Big O

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

_Freedom has been a long time coming_.

Big Otto Delaney took one last look around the cramped 6' x 9' prison cell that had been his home away from home for the last 14 years—the narrow bunk with its thin mattress; the small sink and stainless steel toilet that would freeze his ass in the sometimes cold NorCal winters and fry it during its stifling summers; and the cheerless gray walls that offered no window allowing him to see if the sun was shining on an always craptacular day in Stockton Yard.

The only blessing that came from having to live in a cage like an animal was that he shared it with no one. After a number of violent altercations, it was deemed a necessary evil to give him his own space as the Warden soon realized that Otto didn't make for the best of cellmates. The Warden hadn't agreed to such an almost-unheard of arrangement to protect other inmates from the sometimes volatile convict, but to avoid the constant stream of paperwork and disciplinary hearings necessary to deal with Otto's handiwork.

The only means Otto had of making his accommodations somewhat livable was by decorating his cell walls with a couple of centerfolds from Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues, drawings from Jax Teller's kids, and photos of his SAMCRO family, including his favorite pictures of his old lady Luann.

Having packed his meager belongings—his wall art and photos, a large bundle of letters received over the years that he had read and re-read, several large print books, and two pairs of prison-issued eyeglasses into a large clear plastic bag—Big Otto stood in the middle of his cell and waited. He watched stoically as one of the three prison guards tasked with escorting him today carefully examined his possessions for contraband before giving the all clear. Putting the soon-to-be paroled prisoner in handcuffs and leg shackles, another CO gave him a shove to move him along as they exited the cell, while the third carried his belongings.

With most inmates busy working at the menial jobs necessary to take care of Stockton's 2000+ inmates' daily needs, it was quiet on the block as the majority of the cells sat empty. If today had been a day like any other, Otto would have been hard at work in the hot and sweaty laundry room, earning forty cents an hour as he lifted huge bales of dirty prisoner uniforms and bedding. It would be just another shitty day in a string of long years of endlessly shitty days.

But today was different. _Today_ he was finally going home.

The former SAMCRO VP appeared outwardly calm, almost aloof as he was marched through the long corridors of the dismally gray and cheerless prison. He barely acknowledged the faces of the other inmates or prison personnel that crossed his path.

For a long time now, Otto had resigned himself to the likelihood of spending the rest of his life as a guest of the California prison system, yet he saw no reason to be bitter about his incarceration. After all, he had made the choice to live his life off the grid of a law-abiding society. And it was a choice he had never regretted, whether sitting comfortably in a position of power at the Reaper table back at the Clubhouse or miserable and powerless in Stockton Prison as Inmate No. 97261-003. In the long run, taking the fall during a money drop gone wrong had kept not only Michael McKeavey (SAMCRO's now-deceased point man in their gun running operation with the RIRA, a man wanted by several law enforcement agencies throughout the world) out of the federal government's hands, but Big Otto had protected a young brother as well.

Big Otto had seen the potential in Jax Teller long before his old man had died. Although he had not sponsored JT's only-surviving son, Otto had unofficially taken Jax under his wing after he had patched in and the young biker had almost always served as his right-hand man. That had been the case on the night of his rendezvous with McKeavey when they were ambushed by some dock workers looking for easy money. At great personal risk to himself, Otto had helped McKeavey and Jax get away, but was summarily busted by Oakland's Finest and hit with a slew of charges, including breaking and entering, aggravated assault and resisting arrest.

The Club's shark-for-hire, Scott Rosen, had been hard at work to get Otto a deal for a maximum sentence of five years, which would be reduced to three years if he actually behaved himself. Unfortunately, an ongoing beef with the Mayans had slowly escalated between the two rival MCs and, before Clay was able to secure protection for him on the inside, Otto was attacked by three inmates as retaliation ordered by the Mayan President Marcus Alvarez. Although the former SAMCRO SAA and VP had managed to protect himself, suffering only 20% vision loss in his left eye, he ended up killing one of his attackers. Even though self-defense was easily proven, instead of being charged with manslaughter, the laundry list of charges already against him hurt his case. With the possibility of a 5-year plea deal taken off the table, Otto had received a sentence of 15-to-life for second degree murder.

Although not by any means a model prisoner, Otto had managed not to kill anyone else (not as easy as it sounds, especially in prison), and was even given a highly-coveted prison job. But his already-strained relationship with the Warden turned into an all-out pissing contest when he blocked Otto's request to attend his old lady's funeral. After that, all bets were off and Otto went out of his way to become a thorn in the Warden's side. As a result, the Warden made a resolution to block all efforts for Big Otto to get early parole.

Taking an early retirement amid rumors of corruption, kickbacks, and prisoner abuse, the Warden was now in protective custody himself in Stockton as he awaited trial. As much as that bit of news had come as a happy surprise, Otto had been truly shocked when advised at his last hearing that he had finally been granted parole. Apparently, the young man with so much potential—his SAMCRO President Jax Teller—had put the Club's lawyers to work on pushing through his release. Finally, living life outside prison walls was no longer a sad, unattainable dream.

After walking for what seemed like miles, Otto and his "entourage" reached their destination at the far side of the prison. Lined up with a number of other inmates also being released, Otto marched in a single file outside and onto a prisoner transport bus, which would take them to the Intake Processing Center to finalize paperwork before being set free on an unsuspecting city. After taking his seat, Otto eyed the guard who was securing his restraints to the floor of the bus. When the bull was done and turned away, Otto let out a long, but silent rush of air and finally allowed himself to crack a smile as the bus pulled away from Stockton Prison's main housing building.

Leaning back against the high backed seat, Otto closed his eyes as the mid-afternoon breeze drifted through the open window above his head. Today the air somehow smelled fresher and sweeter than the stale, piss-tinged air he breathed out in the yard with hundreds of other inmates, the air made all the more pungent by their sweaty and unwashed bodies as they got their daily exercise.

Casting aside thoughts of his soon-to-be former life in prison hell, Otto thought about once again being a free man in the fold of his SAMCRO family. Eager to reconnect with all of his brothers, Big Otto was also looking forward to seeing both Gemma and Jolene. He couldn't wait to finally sit at a table surrounded by Jolene's children and eating a home cooked meal. Although many years had passed, Otto still had trouble believing that the little grease monkey that had followed a young Jackson Teller around the lot like he had hung the moon was now his old lady, mother of his three kids, and the new SAMCRO Queen.

Being on the inside had not deterred Otto from staying in the loop regarding his outlaw family. Even though she visited quite often, Jolene was also really good about writing letters filled with all type of amusing stories. Even his brothers had made it a priority to visit often, the most recent one being Tig, who had filled him in on all the shit concerning his kid and her involvement with Opie Winston and all the angst created by the arrival of her friend, who turned out to be none other than Jolene's birth mother.

The former news about Opie had been unexpected, but good to hear. Otto had done the best he could to comfort the young man after the loss of his old lady. It was good to know that his brother was finding happiness again with a woman. With that woman being Tig's daughter, Otto hoped that this new relationship would permanently heal the breach between the two brothers.

The latter bit of news, however, had been a little more puzzling.

It didn't surprise Otto how immediate and visceral his reaction had been to the fact that Jolene had been faced with an unwelcome blast from her past. He did, after all, love Jolene like a daughter. What had been more astonishing had been Tig's reaction, which, in hindsight, should not have been a surprise at all.

 _There's a story there,_ Otto thought as he considered his brother's championing of the egg donor.

It was unlike Tig to have an opinion about family drama one way or the other, even if it involved his own. Aside from the patch he wore with pride on his back, Tig was all about the pussy. Women were nothing more to him than vaginas with legs. His curiosity piqued, Otto decided to reserve judgment until he actually met the woman. There was no need in calling Tig's ass to the mat just yet, even though that was still always an option. He may no longer be the 43 year old he had been before starting his sentence, but Big Otto had worked out everyday for the past 15 years, keeping his 6'2 frame muscle hard, in spite of the grey liberally sprinkled throughout his long hair.

_I bet I can still give Tig a run for his money in the ring. Might just have to test that shit out tonight._

Then again, that might have to wait. The fact was that, no matter how much he had loved his late old lady, it had been 9 years since Otto had been able to get his dick wet. If he knew his Club—and he did—they were sure to make him proud tonight by making it easy to end his drought with some fine SAMCRO pussy. With Tigger advising him that he and Happy were in charge of the "entertainment", Otto was more than ready to let his dick off the chain.

 _With sweetbutts coming in from miles around, this old biker has a lot of catching up to do_.

Otto's head jerked up as the bus finally came to a halt outside of the long, one-story red brick building that housed the IPC.

_Freedom. I can almost taste the son of a bitch!_

* * *

Directly across the main entrance of Stockton Prison, outside a 12-foot reinforced steel fence with two feet of barbed wire, stood two long rows of motorcycles gleaming in the bright California sun with a large black cargo van. Led by the President, VP and SAA of the mother charter, about 30 patches from various charters of the Sons of Anarchy were sitting on or standing by their bikes. The waiting group of bikers had arrived over an hour ago and their patience was starting to wear thin.

"Shit, man. What's taking so fuckin' long?" Leaning against the seat of his ride, Tig reached into the pocket of his kutte and pulled out a pack of smokes, lighting up. "You'd think they couldn't wait to get rid of the motherfucker's crazy ass." He tossed the pack at his brother as he blew out a long trail of blue smoke. "The pricks are dragging their feet on purpose."

Catching the pack, Opie withdrew a cigarette and bent down so that Tig could light it for him. "I just hope we make it back before the sun goes down and the adult entertainment arrives."

"Aw, shit. If that happens before Jolene gets her family-time with Otto, my old lady's gonna shit a brick." Jax added.

Hearing the hurried footfalls of steel-toed boots, the trio turned to watch Happy running through six lanes of traffic from the direction of a port-a-potty on the opposite side of the street.

"Shit, he ain't out yet?" Happy asked in a gravelly voice.

"Nah, man," Tig replied. "Looks like we'll be here all fuckin' day."

"Fuck that!" His wingman in all things violent and slutty replied as he rubbed his hands gleefully. "We got some major festivities planned for our boy Otto tonight."

"Hell's yeah." Tig smiled salaciously. "Almost makes me wish I was the one getting out of the joint!"

Opie shook his head as his two brothers continued to lay out in graphic detail all they had worked out for Big Otto's benefit. "Otto might have to pace himself or he might end up breaking his dick in two."

"Lucky bastard!" Tig said deadpanned.

"I think you two need to stop talking now. I ain't no fuckin' prude, but even I'm starting to get a little uncomfortable hearing all this shit." Jax laughed. He was about to say more when, suddenly, a roar rose from the crowd of bikers as they hooted and catcalled and revved their engines. Turning, Jackson Teller saw his longtime mentor as he exited the first set of gates of his former home.

"Otto!" He hollered at the top of his lungs. With a slight swagger, Big Otto raised his arms triumphantly over his head in a "V" as he was escorted to the second gate by a guard.

Wearing a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt and boots, Big Otto Delaney walked out of Stockton Prison a free man and into the arms of his President for a backslapping bro-hug. Otto was surprised by how overcome he was with emotion as he was grabbed in succession by his brothers from the mother charter, as well as by the many officers from surrounding charters who had made the trek to NorCal to welcome him back into the MC fold.

Refusing to act like a pussy and actually shed some tears, Otto laughed boisterously at the good-natured ribbing he was subjected to by his brothers. Finally, the noise made by the small crowd settled down to a dull roar, allowing Otto to hear his President.

"Shit, brother. Your wardrobe seems to be lacking. You ain't home quite yet, not until you slip into this." Otto swallowed the lump in his throat as Jax held up his beloved kutte that had not touched his back in over 14 years.

"Aw, brother. That's a fuckin' beautiful sight." Otto laughed.

"Well, turn around and put that shit on!" Tig yelled as he clapped his hands gleefully.

As Otto turned, Jax slipped the kutte over his shoulders and again his brothers roared their approval. With the familiar weight of the soft black leather on his back, Otto laid the collar flat against his neck and inhaled the very faint scent of cigarettes and his old lady's perfume.

"Now you're back, bro." Jax reached out to hug the man hard before pulling away. Otto was surprised to see not just the happy expression on his President's strong and handsome face, but the moist emotion in his eyes as well.

"Good to be home, brother." Big Otto clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

"C'mon! Let's get this shit on the road!" Happy barked with a face-splitting grin. "Because we got all kinds of shit planned for you, brother."

"You are long overdue for some top of the line pussy," Tig chimed in. "And we've got the cream of the crop coming in just for you. I'm giving ya first crack, too, even though I know some of those bitches are gonna hate missing out on _my_ package." The SAA preened as all the brothers laughed.

"Zeus hooked us up with the best from his stable. I've already set you up with this one sweetbutt," Happy leered evilly. "Name's Brandi and the bitch can suck the chrome off a tail pipe. You gonna owe me big time after you hit that tight shit."

"Yeah, but all the debauchery is gonna have to wait until all the innocent women and children have vacated the premises." Jax warned. "Jolene is throwing the mother of all parties to welcome your ass home, but the real action won't start until after dark. She's probably already bent out of shape too, being kept waiting for so long, so we better get going."

"Shit, Jax, I'm glad to hear that little grease monkey is still keeping your ass in line." Otto said with a laugh. "Guess I'm riding in the van, huh?"

"I don't know. You wanna ride with the Prospect?" Opie asked. Turning his head towards the van, Opie called out, "Hey shithead! Get your sorry ass out here!"

As the door opened, Otto watched in amazement as a young giant ambled out of the van and over to the group. "Ahh, you gotta be shitting me!" He exclaimed. "This can't possibly be—"

"My runty kid, Kenny? Nope. Otto, meet our newest Prospect Shithead, christened Dirty Harry by our Prez over there." Opie smirked. "Shithead, meet Big Otto Delaney. You'll kiss his ass good and proper if you want to earn that top rocker." He said in a threatening tone.

"Hey, I have nothing but mad respect for the man that got to call my old man shithead back in the day." The young blond giant said as he held out his hand, only to find himself engulfed in a bear hug.

"Fuck me!" Big Otto exclaimed. "I haven't seen this kid since he was toddler. What in the fuckin' fuck are you feeding him? He can't be more than 15."

"Sixteen, actually," Kenny said proudly. "Almost seventeen."

"Shit, Ope. I think he's gonna be bigger than your sorry ass." Otto marveled. "Is that even fuckin' possible?"

"That's the plan, Big O." Kenny said with a cheeky grin.

"Enough of this shit!" His father ordered. "Meet and greet time is over for you, Prospect. Haul ass back to the van and move it over to the side."

Doing as he was told, Kenny quickly trotted over to the cargo van. As Opie turned to the older biker, he grinned. "Personally, I think it's foolish to go risking your life on your first day out by riding with my kid, so we thought you'd rather tool around on this instead." Opie waved a large index finger in the air in a circular motion and Kenny pulled the cargo van away from the curb to reveal what was behind it.

Perched on the side of the road was an all-black 1948 Harley-Davidson mint condition Knucklehead.

Otto's hand flew to his bandana-covered head. He was awestruck as he slowly walked over to what had to be the greatest love of his life since he had helped his own old man restore it when he was barely thirteen years old. Coming to a stop, he reached out and reverently rested a hand on the familiar grip of the handlebars. The bike was a beauty and still in mint condition.

Aside from a shitload of apathy and indifference, Otto's father had never given him much. A former Merchant Marine, his old man believed that showing affection equated with coddling and that was no way for his son to grow into a real man. Otto knew he had been a disappointment to his father, but at least for a short time—it had taken about a year to restore the Harley—he and his father had formed a sort of bond and Otto's love for bikes and the road was cemented in that dusty old garage. The old man that had never given him much by way of love at had at least given him that, leaving the Knucklehead for Otto when he passed away almost twenty-five years ago.

The crowd was silent as Jax followed behind him and slapped a hand on his back. "We pulled it out of storage about a month ago," He started softly. "Gave it a good going over, just me and Ope knowing how particular you are about people touching your shit. Thought you might like to ride it home."

Otto was hard pressed to speak for a moment. "Thanks, man." He finally said, not trusting himself to say any more. He rubbed a hand over his lower jaw before eyeing the younger man. "I haven't been on a bike in over 14 years. I lay this shit down, these assholes won't ever let me live it down."

"Hey, you haven't been with a woman in a long-ass while, but I'm sure you didn't forget how to ride one of those either." Jax teased. Reaching into his kutte, he pulled out a pair of riding gloves and bike glasses. "These are from Jo. She found a place online that makes special made-to-order riding glasses and had these made for your prescription. She also set you up to see a specialist, an ophthalmologist who might be able to help you out or at least hook you up with better eye gear. God knows those doctors in the infirmary ain't worth shit."

Otto smiled as he accepted Jolene's gift. "Your old lady's something special."

"No doubt." Jax smiled in return. "So what are you waiting for? Hop the fuck on!"

Surrounded by his brothers, Otto slowly put on his gloves, then his glasses before straddling the bike. And it felt like coming home. Otto's legs immediately settled into place, his right foot resting in the foot rest, his ass fitting snugly into the worn contour of the supple leather seat. Removing the kick stand, he settled onto the bike so that it was properly balanced.

"Let her rip, man!" Happy bellowed and turning the ignition, Otto revved the engine.

The rumble of the bike's pipes was pure and so familiar, like music to the old biker's ears. The only thing missing was his old lady on the back seat. Otto swallowed the lump in his throat.

 _There's a time and a place, Otto_ , he scolded himself. _Not today and not in front of my brothers_.

"How's it feeling, man?" Tig asked.

"Fuckin' awesome!"

Jax grinned. "Then let's get to it!"

Big Otto Delaney watched as his Club geared up and suddenly the air was filled with the roar of 30 bikes. It was a beautiful sight and sound. Jax pulled out first, circling Otto until his former mentor was on his right-hand side.

"Let's ride, brother."

Gunning his motor, and with his heart nearly in his mouth, Otto pulled away from the curb and rode down the street side-by-side with his President on his left, a place of honor as they led the procession of bikes down the street.

Suddenly, Otto's mind cleared and his body took control as it leaned into the curves and took to the straight-aways easy as pie. A feeling of euphoria swept through him and with a smile a mile wide, he let out a whoop. Passing the tail end of his former prison home, Otto lifted his left hand to flip it off as he finally got his first true taste of freedom.

* * *

"Damn! Where the hell are they? They should have been here at least an hour ago!" The SAMCRO matriarch exclaimed as she placed another pan of Neeta's homemade biscuits on one of the buffet tables.

"Oh, quit your fussing, Gemma. They'll get here when they get here," Neeta replied. "So untwist that knot from your granny panties and help me out here."

Gemma stopped what she was doing to place her hand on her cocked hip and glare at her old friend. "When did I lose control of you?"

"You never had it," Neeta retorted, her own hand on her more ample hip. "But if you say so, my guess would be the day I stopped working for you." She deadpanned. "Now get!"

With both the Clubhouse and the lot crawling with patches and their families from all over the country, the two women—along with a small army of old ladies and Bobby—had been cooking since early morning in preparation for Big Otto's first meal as a free man. Gemma smiled as she looked around the packed Main Room as music blared and children ran through the crowd having a great time.

Jolene, the allegedly mild-mannered school teacher, had proven herself a force to be reckoned with when it came to her capacity as SAMCRO Queen. Even Gemma was a bit in awe of her daughter-in-law for managing to set the standing rule that cleared the Clubhouse of croweaters and sweetbutts during certain events, especially those that were family-oriented. That was something even Gemma herself had never really been successful in doing. According to Clay, his daughter's approach differed from Gemma's in that Gemma considered herself an honorary member of SAMCRO. Hearing that had made Gemma bristle a little, but the fact was that she had witnessed the birth of SAMCRO by bringing the formerly nomadic MC to Charming. She felt that had given her the right to be quite vocal about certain things regarding the Club. Clay, of course, like JT before him, disagreed.

Clay believed that, although Jolene loved the Club as much as Gemma did, she understood the old adage that behind every great man, stood a great woman and that a beautiful woman should be seen and not heard. If she manipulated Jax at all, it was done privately and behind closed doors, not in front of his brothers in his own Clubhouse.

The truth was, at least according to Gemma, that Jax and Jolene had always been close. They had formed a bond in childhood that was rivaled only by the one Jax had with Opie. Jolene had no reason to manipulate her old man because Jax depended on her counsel as much, if not more, as that of his best friend and VP, calling her the most intelligent person he knew. The younger generation of bikers that included her son were of a different breed that way. They seemed to understand what their forefathers did not or chose to ignore, that a good old lady could make or break a Club.

Neeta suddenly felt a stiff breeze blow by and out of the corner of her eye saw a 3-foot blur swoop down on the pan of biscuits. Quick as a snake, Neeta shot her arm out to grab the would-be biscuit thief by the scruff of the neck and fastened a stern eye on Maddy Teller.

"Little girl, you may have an appetite as legendary as your Mama's, but you need to wait your turn with everybody else until the guest of honor arrives." Neeta chastised.

"But I'm hungry _now_ ," Maddy whined, her small fists resting on her hips. "Uncle O ain't gonna miss one measly biscuit." She rolled her eyes.

"Child, you know better than to be rolling your eyes at me." Neeta warned.

"Hey, hey! Don't be so damn grumpy, Neeta." Gemma admonished. "My grandbaby's right. Nobody is going to miss one damn biscuit." Grabbing a napkin, Gemma scooped up _two_ biscuits and handed them to Maddy.

"You're the best, G-Ma!" Maddy crowed, reaching up to kiss Gemma fervently on the cheek before shoving a biscuit into her mouth and scampering away.

"And don't you forget it!" Gemma called after the little girl, smiling. Turning around, however, she was faced with the gimlet stare of her friend. "Heifer, you know better than to be rolling your eyes at _me_." She repeated what Neeta had just said to Maddy.

"Uh huh, and you know better than to be sucking up to your grandchildren." Neeta accused. "Gemma, I know this whole Tina thing has you pissing all over the place, marking your territory, but there's no need for that shit. Those babies love you. Always have, always will."

Gemma sniffed. "You must be off your meds. I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Oh, really now?" Neeta prodded, crossing her arms over her chest. Never pulling her punches with the SAMCRO matriarch in their more than 20-year friendship, Neeta wasn't about to start now. Before she could let the fur fly, however, Jolene interrupted.

"Finally!" Jolene exclaimed as she made her way through the crowded Clubhouse and snapped her phone shut as she faced the two women. Quickly noting their combative stance as they eyeballed each other, Jolene wisely chose to ignore it and not involve herself in whatever they were in the middle of bitching about. "That was Jax. We need to move everyone outside. They'll be pulling up in about ten minutes."

"Well, it's about damn time!" Gemma replied archly, grateful for the interruption. "What took them so long?"

Jolene wrapped an arm around her mother-in-law's waist. "Big O wanted to spend some time visiting Luann at her grave." She said quietly so that none of the other guests could hear.

Gemma nodded sadly. "Did Jax say how—"

"Otto's doing great." Jolene's smile had a tinge of sadness to it. "Now come on and help me get everyone outside."

* * *

 _What the hell?_ Sheriff Eli Roosevelt thought as he heard what sounded like the loud thundering of tanks rolling down Main Street.

Sitting in Floyd's chair, Eli had been enjoying his weekly ritual of a hot shave and small talk about local gossip with the town's only barber when the noise overpowered their conversation. The Sheriff's eyes widened as what was undoubtedly a convoy of motorcycles came into view. Riding in a two-by-two formation, the group was led, unsurprisingly, by Jax Teller. What was different, however, was the man riding next to him was not Opie Winston, but a brawny, wild-haired man.

 _That must be Otto Delaney_ , Eli narrowed his eyes as he watched the long trail of bikes head towards the T-M lot.

Recently, Mayor Hale had taken the time to drop by his office to make Eli aware that a longtime member of SAMCRO was about to be paroled from Stockton Prison. The man, whose last known address had a Charming zip code, would most likely return to the fold of his fellow outlaw bikers and the Mayor had made a special trip to Eli's office just to make sure he was on top of the situation.

Eli had cursed Otto Delaney's parole in that it had brought him into contact with Hale again. His office had been relatively quiet and Mayor-free since the incident with Tig Trager back in the spring. But as Eli counted the 30-plus bikes riding up the street, he knew that his peaceful, yet all too brief respite of the day was over. Eli paid Floyd and briskly exited the shop, making his way back to the station house in order to send extra units out on patrol. SAMCRO liked to party and undoubtedly the mother of all parties was probably about to erupt.

_The last thing I want is Mayor Hale circling my head like a vulture should something go wrong tonight._

* * *

They were still more than a block away and already Jax could hear the momentum and excitement of the crowd building.

"Hope you're ready for this, brother!" Jax yelled to Otto over the noise of their bikes.

"Been ready since I left 15 years ago!" Big Otto shouted back.

As they pulled into the lot, the crowd exploded as Big Otto came into view. The throng of bikers, women, and children surged forward and parted like the Red Sea as Otto came to a stop in front of the Clubhouse. Instantly swarmed by his brothers in leather, Otto found himself in the embrace of his former President, the man he had served as Vice President for so many years.

"My brother!" Clay bellowed as he clapped his meaty hooks around his shoulders. "Glad you're home."

The two men, the old guard of SAMCRO, clasped each other in hugs so tight that they looked almost painful before letting go. "Shit, Clay. It's good finally seeing ya on the outside again." Looking around the lot, Otto smirked and shook his head. "Damn, the least y'all could have done was fix up this dump before I got home."

"This dump is your home, Big O, but don't get too attached. After tonight, I'm not sure what will be left standing."

Big Otto turned around and his heart melted as he faced the new SAMCRO Queen.

"Hey, little grease monkey! Get your ass over here!" He shouted with a massive grin splitting his face. Jolene quickly leaped into his arms as he whirled her around.

And while holding the young woman he loved like a daughter, Big Otto finally let his tears go.

* * *

Fawn sighed as she ran her hand through her hair, absently gnawing on her bottom lip. "Shit!" She cursed under her breath as she pulled the sun visor down and inspected the damage she had done—again—to her carefully applied lip liner and gloss. That was the third time she had to fix her make up after chewing on her lips and sucking the gloss off.

Looking on the bright side as she proceeded to fix her make up, it at least gave her something to do aside from tapping her long fingers restlessly against the steering wheel of her Buick. At the rate they were going, it wasn't likely that Fawn was going anywhere anytime soon anyway. Looking over at her basket case of a friend sitting motionless in the passenger seat, Fawn let out another sigh, this one more woefully melodramatic than the last.

No response.

Fawn shook her head, wondering where Opie got his seemingly infinite amount of patience from because right now she could use a hit.

"Okay, I wanna make sure I understand the plan for tonight," Fawn drawled as she packed her compact into her cosmetics bag. "We're gonna sit here in my stuffy car that, now that I think about it, smells like dog while the party blazes around us all night?" She asked sarcastically. "Wish I had known cuz I could just have thrown on my pajamas for that shit. Instead, I went through all the trouble of tarting myself up for my old man and now he won't even get the chance to touch down on my fine ass."

"I just need five minutes." Tina replied softly without looking up from her hands on her lap.

Sitting in her parked car at the edge of the darkened lot, Fawn wearily eyed her friend in the seat next to her. "You've been saying that every ten minutes for the past thirty minutes, Tina. Sheesh, the sun was still up when we got here." She complained, her ass somewhat numb.

Tina twisted several rings on her fingers nervously. "You know this is why I used to drink, right?" She said out of nowhere, surprising Fawn. "I was never more self-confident and carefree than when I was drunk."

"That's not true—"

"Yes it is," Tina nodded her head before lifting her gaze and turning to look at Fawn. "I'm starting to think that coming here tonight wasn't such a good idea."

"You know, I was kinda getting that vibe from ya, but I really wasn't sure." Fawn teased.

"I'm serious—"

"I know you are, but yet here you are, so I'm thinking it's a little late for that shit, don'tcha think?"

Tina shook her head. "No, you can go on inside and I'll call a cab to take me home." She begged off with big doe eyes, thinking Fawn would take pity on her.

She thought wrong.

"Nope, not happening, Tina." Fawn said, leaving no room for argument or negotiations. They didn't call her the spawn of Trager for nothing.

From the moment that Maddy Teller had pressed the issue of inviting Tina to Big Otto Delaney's welcome home party, Tina had been an emotional wreck. It had been hard enough finding the courage to face Jolene's immediate family just a short week ago. Her only motivation for walking into the lion's den had been the fact that her daughter had invited her and she would get to meet her grandchildren. Thankfully, she had let Opie convince her to not change her mind about going because, aside from getting clean and staying that way, that had been the best day of her life.

Tonight, however, was different. Tonight Tina would be walking right into the heart of SAMCRO. Never mind the fact that she would suddenly be thrust into the party hearty biker scene again, something she hadn't been exposed to in years, but now people would know exactly _who_ she was. The smartest thing she could have done was decline the forced invitation. Jolene probably didn't want her there anyway, having no choice but to relent to Maddy's prodding. But Tina was so enthralled with her beautiful grandchildren that she couldn't bear the thought of disappointing Maddy.

"Look," Fawn said quietly. "I'm not going to abandon you in there and you certainly don't have to stay long if you don't want to. But this is my old man's hang out and I want you to see it, get familiar here because if I get my way, you're going to be staying in Charming for a long time to come, so you might as well start getting used to these people. Lord knows it took me a minute to feel comfortable around them."

"But you were blessed with that strong Trager constitution." Tina noted.

"And you were blessed with me." Fawn smiled cheekily. "I promise, we're going to sink or swim in this together."

Tina looked at Fawn for a long time before smiling. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know," Fawn grinned. "But your chances of getting laid in this town have gone up considerably by just being here tonight cuz, gurl, you are rockin' the shit outta that outfit."

"Oh well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" Tina kidded. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath. "Let's do this shit."

Fawn gave an inward sigh of relief as she noted Tina's resolute expression before they exited the car. Quickly linking her arm in her friend's, Fawn guided them through the crowded lot and the two women made quite a stunning pair. Fawn, with her dark red hair streaming down her back in sexy waves, was wearing a black corseted peasant style dress that came to her mid-thigh and black boots with five-inch heels.

Tina had her hair pulled into an up-do of soft curls, several of them trailing her neck and had expertly made up her face to emphasize her wide green eyes and taut, firm skin. Showing off a rack that a 25-year old would envy, she wore a fitted black tank top, paired with dark wash skinny jeans, strappy black designer heels and a dark brown leather jacket. Tina had been aiming for sexy and confident, not trashy. She wasn't a croweater, neither did she want to embarrass her daughter by trying to look like one, dressing to compete with the women on the lot.

But as Tina noted the admiring glances directed not just at Fawn, but her as well, she inwardly preened.

Fawn also noticed the attention that her friend was drawing. "Girl, I think you in trouble. You better stick close or you'll end up breaking your dry spell before you even make it inside." She snarked.

"I think you should be more concerned with helping your old man break his 'dry spell' instead." Opie's deep voice came from behind her, making Fawn squeal.

Quickly turning around, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tina discreetly turned away as the lovers nearly sucked the tongues out of each other's mouths.

"What the fuck?! Can't you take that shit back to your dorm?" Tina looked up to see the Club's SAA striding towards them and tried not to laugh at the man's irritated look. But just as quickly, Tig turned his attention to her and the heated admiration reflected in his deep blue eyes nearly had her melting into a puddle at his feet.

Tina felt her heart flutter as she noted that Tig was looking particularly fine that evening. Usually outfitted in all black, Tig had made a concession tonight by wearing a tightly fitted white t-shirt under his kutte, a stark contrast against his lightly tanned muscled arms. Freshly shaven, his goatee and soul patch made him appear rakish and sexy.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Tig looked down at Tina and smiled roguishly. "Hey Doll. I was starting to wonder if I was ever gonna see you here tonight."

"Yeah, you and me both," Fawn chimed in as she finally came up for air. "I had to drag her ass in here."

"Fawn!" Tina admonished.

"What?" Fawn asked innocently. "You _were_ gonna bail on me."

"There's no need for all that, T. I told you, I got your back." Tig boasted. "Anybody step out of line, they're gonna have to deal with me. C'mon, let's go inside."

Fawn bit her lip at the panicked glare her friend threw her way before she was dragged into the Clubhouse. She felt a twinge of guilt as she had promised Tina that she would stick close by.

"Shit, I better go put Dad on a leash." Fawn murmured, but as Opie started to nibble on her earlobe, all such thoughts of coming to her friend's rescue left her as she let out a low throaty moan.

"Tig's got that shit covered." Opie growled in a low voice. "I just got back from run and I want my welcome home in private."

"You went to Stockton to pick up Otto," Fawn giggled. "Not Africa."

"Still, I was _terribly_ lonesome for ya. I can go to the bathroom and I'd still miss you like hell." He whispered.

 _Shit, he really knows how to get to ya, don't he?_ Inner-Fawn teased.

 _Yes, he does_ , Fawn almost purred out loud. _Sorry, Tina_.

"Well, I did miss you, too and I _guess_ Tina will be fine for a little while." Fawn conceded as her man's bear paws found a home on her ass.

Kissing her long and hard until her toes curled, Opie grinned cockily before grabbing her hand and heading for his dorm, pulling his woman behind him.

* * *

Walking though the large crowd of patches and old ladies, Tina felt alternately secure and nervous under Tig's protection.

Glancing around and making eye contact with all the partygoers, Tig noted the raised eyebrows and nudged shoulders as they took in the stunningly familiar and curvaceous figure attached to his hip. Finally stopping in front of the bar, he grinned at the woman perched on one of the bar stools talking with Bobby Elvis.

"Hey, look who I found lookin' all hot and ready to join the party." Tig said breezily, his arm wrapped around Tina's shoulders in a vise.

Jolene and Bobby exchanged a look, both with one eyebrow raised. Facing Tina, Jolene felt a stab of sympathy as she noted the look of panic on her birth mother's face.

_Been there and got that fuckin' t-shirt, hon._

The SAMCRO SAA's sexual proclivities were legendary in the Clubhouse among his brothers, but even Jolene knew enough to know that Tina might be begging her for an out as she looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights. God bless him, but Tig couldn't help himself. Out of her element, Jolene hoped that Tina knew what she was potentially getting herself into.

"Glad you could make it," Jolene smiled pleasantly.

"So am I," Tina moistened her lips, hoping that she sounded convincing. "I had to work late at the shop or I would have been here earlier. Seems like I missed out on seeing the kids."

"Yeah, the natives were getting restless for their porn stars, so I sent the kiddies home with Neeta." Jolene explained.

"Can we get you a little something to wet your whistle?" Bobby asked, always the gentleman with a lady. He still couldn't get over just how much Kit was the spitting image of her mother.

"Um, I—" Tina started nervously.

"I got you covered, Doll," Tig leaned down and whispered her ear. "Yo! Shithead!" He barked.

Kenny, who was bartending tonight, quickly sidled over. "Yes, sir?"

"See? I like that shit. You're learning quick, grunt." Tig commended with a smile.

"Yeah, I think having a bucket of dirty water dumped on his head probably had something to do with that." Jolene said sweetly, but her tone dark.

"C'mon, Aunt Jo. It's a'ight." Kenny nearly begged. He had it easy tonight tending bar. The last thing he needed was the overprotective SAMCRO Queen rocking his boat. He didn't want to get stuck again tonight with toilet duty as punishment for having his aunt stand up for him. After tonight's shenanigans, the john was already well on its way to resembling a cum factory.

"You heard the kid, Doll Face. 'Sides, that kind of shit builds character." Tig claimed. "Now, get me a beer and one of those little fruity, girly nonalcoholic drinks Fawn likes. You know, with club soda and some other shit." The SAA ordered Kenny.

Tina gave a little sigh of relief. "Thanks, Tig."

"I told ya, babe. I'm here for you."

Jolene's head bounced back and forth between Tina and Tig, her eyes narrowed as she wondered if there was something more going on with them than just innocent flirting.

Unfortunately, Jolene didn't have the chance to find out.

"Holy shit on me! Am I fuckin' seeing double?"

Looking up and over her shoulder, Jolene smiled as she noted Big Otto staring at her and Tina as he and her old man joined the group.

"Guess I should make some introductions, huh?" She smiled.

"No need, baby girl. My eyes aren't great, but I still can figure shit out. You must be Tina." Otto held out a huge hand.

Otto had been having a fuckin' great time. Coming back home, being with his brothers and the people he loved like family was almost an overwhelming feeling. He had spent much of the last few hours stuffing himself with delicious home-cooked food and was well on his way to getting shit-faced on top-shelf booze and A-class bud, all while reacquainting himself with everyone and the Life again.

After dinner, most of the old ladies and their kids had cleared out, making way for the croweaters, the girls from Cara Cara, and the working girls from the Reno charter. The Clubhouse was filled to the brim with top-quality pussy, as promised by Tig and Happy, but Otto had yet to indulge. He was still feeling nostalgic for his old lady. He was sure the feeling would pass the drunker he became, so for now he continued making the rounds throughout the lot and the Clubhouse.

Tucked into a corner talking shop with Jax and Chibs, Otto had seen the small group gather at the bar. Excusing himself, he made a beeline to the bar with Jax following to finally meet the woman responsible for pushing out Jolene Teller.

Eyeing Otto, Tig suddenly stiffened as he noted his brother looking at Tina admiringly as he flashed her with a rakish grin. Tina was having trouble trying to pry her arm from Tig's grip to offer Otto her hand. Finally managing it, Tina looked up at the recently paroled biker with a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you."

As Otto took his time shaking Tina's delicate hand, the former VP of the mother charter realized two things. One, Tina was as fine as all get out.

 _Shit! And that's not just a horny old biker talking_ , Otto thought as he stared in wonder _._

Second—and most interesting, as far as Otto was concerned—was Tig's reaction to the woman and the fact that Otto held onto her hand longer than socially acceptable.

Otto had known Tig for years. They were good enough friends that Otto had recommended Tig for the SAMCRO SAA position many years ago. But age, time—he didn't know what—had changed his brother. The man who believed pussy was pretty much interchangeable and who Otto would have sworn didn't have a jealous bone in his body was now staring daggers at him behind a murderous green-eyed monster glare. It took restraint cultivated in the hellhole that was Stockton Prison to keep Otto from busting a gut laughing.

What he was seeing had Otto wondering if Tig Trager, connoisseur of all things depraved and kinky, was feeling something a little more than just a sexual attraction for Jolene's birth mother. Thinking that he should set his brother's mind at ease by backing off, Otto did the complete opposite just to yank on Tig's chain instead.

"Well, as Jolene's oldest and closest uncle—" Otto started.

" _Excuse_ me?" Bobby spoke up in a gruff tone.

"After, of course, her wonderful Uncle Elvis here, I think I should get to know you a bit more." Otto grinned as he watched Tig giving him the eye. "Hey, perfect timing, kid!" He said as Kenny came around the bar with Tig's drink order. Quickly taking the one for Tina and offering it to her, he swiped the beer that had been for Tig and took Tina by the hand. "Let's go find ourselves a table so we can have a nice long talk and get to know each other _privately_."

Tina eyed the biker. He was handsome despite the seriously twisted-looking pair of Coke bottle glasses he was wearing. Of course, it didn't hurt that he was tall, had powerful arms and legs, and looked incredibly fit in spite of spending over a decade behind bars. Also, the thought of being swept off to a private corner was too tempting as it would remove her from everyone's center of attention. She would actually feel quite welcomed in the Clubhouse if not for the many pairs of eyes trained on her. Hopefully, removing herself to a darkened corner with the charming biker would allow her to relax and not feel like she was on display.

Taking a quick peek at Tig, Tina had to admit her disappointment that he didn't seem inclined to protest or make a fuss. Actually, judging by the unreadable expression on his face, it seemed that Tig was not at all concerned that his brother was practically carrying her off right under his nose.

Stung by Tig's sudden aloofness and seeming rejection, Tina looped her arm through Otto's and let him lead her to an intimate little table against the wall. As she walked away, Tina dared one more look over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she noted Tig watching them leave, regret now painted clearly across his handsome features.

Jolene watched as Tig turned back to the bar and grabbed a bottle of Jack before stalking over to the pool table and bullying himself into a game already in progress.

"Shit, I hope this doesn't get out of hand, "Jolene murmured to Jax and Bobby as she raptly watched all three players in the current drama. "Or it could get ugly."

"I don't think you need to worry, Kit. Otto's a big boy. He can handle himself." Bobby said.

"It's not Otto that worries me," Jolene replied as she watched Tina. "She may have MC experience, but it's been a while since Tina's had to deal with overly aggressive and horny bikers on the prowl."

Jax wrapped an arm around his old lady. "Well, I can't say I blame Otto for trying to press up on that." He said as Jolene stared at him wide-eyed. "All I can say is _damn_ , I'm a lucky man!"

Jolene put a hand on her hip. "And just how do you figure that _you're_ a lucky man?" She asked cautiously, afraid he was alluding to some twisted mother-daughter porn fantasy with him as the meat in that sandwich.

"Cause it's not every man that can get a glimpse of his old lady 17 years from now and discover that she's as hot as ever. I am a fuckin' lucky bastard!" Jax grinned lewdly as Bobby smirked at them both.

 _These two will never change,_ the shaggy haired biker thought contentedly.

"You're such a perv!" Jolene exclaimed.

Jax bent down to kiss Jolene softly on the lips. "Just one of the many reasons why you love me, babe."

* * *

Still basking in their shared afterglow, Fawn and Opie finally made their way back into the Main Room from the dorm area. Looking around the dimly lit Clubhouse at all manner of lewd activity—which she was quickly learning was pretty much the standard for SAMCRO parties—Fawn wished she had just listened to Ope and stayed in bed.

 _It's like a fuckin' ho-asis in here_ , Fawn thought as she looked at the half-naked women with cheap extensions and Lucite heels "entertaining" the assembled group of bikers.

Busy scanning the crowded room, Fawn almost jumped as Opie dipped his head to murmur hotly in her ear. "I believe the person you're looking for is right over there," He directed her attention towards a small grouping of tables at the rear of the room with the hand holding his bottle of beer. "See, told ya she was fine."

Fawn narrowed her eyes, noting that Tina was quietly ensconced with Big Otto Delaney. Leaning towards each other as they talked, their heads nearly touching, Fawn was a little confused by how cozy they seemed. Adding to her confusion was the fact that Tig was playing a round of pool with a group of patches from Tacoma in between groping the scantily clad women hanging off of him, all in perfect line of sight of Tina and Otto's table. He was being loud, bordering on obnoxious, and clearly piss drunk.

"I told you we were gone too long. All hell broke loose." Fawn admonished Opie.

Opie looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about, Big Red?" He asked, now confused himself. "Looks like she's having a good time with Otto."

"Tig was all over Tina when we got here. Now he looks pissed and she's sitting with Otto." Fawn explained.

The corner of Opie's mouth tugged into a half smile. "What was I thinkin', babe? You're right. It's a bloody fuckin' massacre." He teased as Fawn crossed her arms and glared at him.

"You know I'm right, Redwood. I just wanna know what the fuck happened."

"I can tell ya what happened," Opie stated emphatically. "Otto got a load of Tina and swooped in for the kill. Explains why your Dad looks like a kid who just had his favorite toy taken away."

Fawn laughed. "Wrong. Tig Trager doesn't step aside for any man."

"He would for Otto." Opie said before bringing his beer to his lips for a healthy gulp. "Otto's responsible for bringing Tig to SAMCRO, so Tig stepped aside out of deference and respect. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Humph!" Fawn eyed him suspiciously. "You mean to tell me that if some senior patch stepped up to me, you would—"

"Knock him the fuck out?" Opie stated, not letting Fawn finish her thought. "Absolutely."

"Aw," Fawn wrapped her arms around his neck. "You love me."

"You know it," Opie dipped his head and kissed her softly, his hands forcing a squeal out of Fawn as he grabbed her ass.

Seated at the bar a few stools away was Gemma, nursing a beer. It had not gone unnoticed by Opie that she was boring holes into the side of Tina's head and, when Gemma finally pushed away from the bar and stood up, Opie pulled away from Fawn. "Uh-oh." He said, quickly scanning the room for Jax or Jolene to run interference if, judging by the look on her face, she was determined to start trouble for Tina.

"What?" Fawn's eyes rounded with worry. Following Opie's gaze, Fawn watched as Gemma, looking as stylish as ever, boldly strode across the room in Tina's direction.

Jolene had shared Gemma's "misgivings" about Tina with Fawn, assuring her that Jax had removed any thought of confronting Tina from his mother's mind by threatening to banish her from the Clubhouse. It was a hollow threat, of course, but it seemed to do the trick in calming Gemma down and getting her off Jolene's back about her birth mother.

Hitching a breath, Fawn let out a relieved sigh as Gemma stopped at the pool table to talk to Tig. "Whew! For a second there, I thought she was gonna make trouble for Tina."

"That still might be a possibility." Opie said as they watched Gemma practically yank Tig away from his game so they could talk privately in the kitchen.

"Oh gawd, what is she up to?" Fawn gnawed at her thumbnail.

Opie smirked. "If I know Mother Gemma, everything's going too smooth for her liking. She's gonna stir shit up."

* * *

Half listening to Opie and Fawn's conversation as she kept an eye on Otto and Tina, Gemma finally came to the resolution that someone needed to do something. Hours had passed since Otto had whisked Tina away and, from the looks of it, their conversation was still going strong as Tig continued to stew. Gemma quickly found herself getting upset on Tig's behalf.

 _I knew that tramp was going to cause trouble in this charter_ , Gemma thought as she downed the last of her beer before hopping off of her seat at the bar.

After the dinner last Sunday, Gemma had realized that she was probably going to have to face up to the fact that Tina was being absorbed into and accepted by their dysfunctional family. According to her son, it was Jolene's call to make, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it. Threatening Gemma with banishment from the Clubhouse—she'd like to see him try—Jax had reasoned that if Clay and Bobby could at least be civil to Tina, he expected no less from her. Gemma had agreed, but not because it was what Jolene wanted and Jax demanded, but because she was tired of hearing Neeta's mouth on the subject.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that no one, including the new SAMCRO Queen, knew what was best for this family. And judging by the look on Tig's face, someone had to diffuse the situation before two close brothers came to serious blows over the two-bit Seattle Whore.

* * *

Tig upended the bottle of Jack he had been nursing and took a deep gulp. He needed it. It was the only thing keeping him from smushing Gemma's face.

No, that wasn't true. He would never smush the Club's matriarch, even though it seemed like a better alternative to wanting to throttle her within an inch of her life, which he would not have hesitated to do had she been anyone else. So Tig had no choice—at least, for the moment—but to stand in the kitchen as Gemma did her best to bad mouth his kid's best friend.

Truth was, the SAA had much love and respect for Gemma Teller-Morrow. After all, even though she was not a patched member, she had been the driving force that had brought the Club to Charming. A strong old lady behind the Club's first two presidents, JT and Clay, Gemma had been instrumental in keeping the Club whole through the Mayan war during Bloody '92, trouble with the Feds, incarcerations, deaths, and all types of family drama. Gemma lived, breathed and slept Club life and a better old lady couldn't be found anywhere, except maybe for her protégé Jolene Teller. If he ever needed to bend a woman's ear for some advice, Gemma was his one and only go-to gal. He never had a strong club-oriented old lady of his own, but he did not have a problem acknowledging that strong old ladies made an MC, and he appreciated all that Gemma had ever done for him.

 _However, old ladies can also be a fuckin' pain in the ass when they go on a meddling spree_ , Tig thought grimly as he stared into a pair of angry brown eyes.

He didn't need Gemma to point out the obvious. He had spent the last couple of hours sulking in the guise of playing a half-assed game of pool with his brothers as he covertly watched his friend Otto pressing up on Tina, and he wasn't at all happy about it.

When Otto had swooped in like a bird of prey and sequestered Tina for himself, Tig had been pissed. After all, he and Happy had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure Otto's party was filled to the brim with nothing but young, luscious, tight pussy. But the time to be honest with himself was pressing on him and Tig had to admit that he had been hoping that tonight would have been the night he succeeded in getting Tina to let her guard down. After weeks of trying to soften her resolve against getting involved with an outlaw, and one from SAMCRO in particular, it seemed that Otto would be the one to reap the benefits.

Or at least that's how Gemma saw it. In her mind, it didn't matter to Tina who she snagged for the night. As long as he had a bike and a dick, any patch would do.

Even though Tig knew that Clay's old lady was wrong about her, the longer Tina lingered with Big Otto at the table, the more Tig became convinced that maybe he should just write her off. After all, the Clubhouse was teeming with top-of-the-line pussy, all of it ripe for the taking and splayed out like a fuckin' buffet. Ironically, however, even though he was surrounded by beautiful, young women with perky tits and tight asses, it was a pair of sparkling green eyes that had him distracted. All he could think about was the woman they belonged to, who just so happened to be only a few years younger than him. Not really his preferred age group, but Tina was something different.

According to Gemma, however, he had dodged a bullet and if she hadn't continued harping on it, he might have agreed. As a matter of fact, he had been fairly close to coming to that conclusion himself. If Big Otto wanted Tina, he could have her. After all, pussy never came in between brothers. But pulling him away from his game—even one that he had no real interest in playing, but kept him distracted just the same—just to bitch at him about Tina kind of pissed him off a little, he realized as Gemma continued droning on and on.

"Everyone else seems to be clueless around here," Gemma continued her spiel as she placed a hand on his arm. "But if there's one person in this Clubhouse besides me that can see bullshit coming from a mile away it's you, Tigger. Don't let her get to you like that, wrapping you around her dainty little finger."

The thought of Gemma seeing the effect Tina had on him quickly put Tig on the defensive. "What? Nah, Gem, ain't no broad alive that can manage that shit. Many have tried, many have cried—"

"Listen to me, damn it!" Gemma admonished angrily, surprising Tig into snapping his mouth shut. His blue eyes taking on the appearance of what many referred to as "crazy", Tig took another pull from his bottle of whiskey. "You're already ass deep in her shit, Tig. I've been reading it all over your face and body language all night long. She's got you all twisted up and feeling sorry for her just like she has Jolene. It's all an act, don't you see it? Let Otto have her. He'll work her over good, give her the ride of her life and cast her aside by morning. Hopefully, then everything can go back to normal around here. I'm sure she rocked your world, but that's what she's good at. That and pitting brother against brother, just ask Clay. The Seattle Whore may have wiped off all the cum, but she is still bad business—bad for this Club and bad for you. I would hate to see you hurt by that bitch, too."

Tig eyed his President's mother. He loved Gemma, he truly did, but sometimes he thought that Clay had lost complete control over her.

_Jax knows how to deal with her territorial bullshit, but that skill set ain't in my fuckin' wheelhouse._

"Don't call her that." It came out almost as a whisper. He wasn't even sure he had said it out loud until Gemma stopped yapping about Tina's unsuitability and her past history.

With narrowed eyes, Gemma asked, "Come again?"

Looking straight into her eyes, Tig practically growled. "I said don't call her that—the Seattle Whore. I don't like it."

Gemma blinked several times before snapping out of her semi-shock and responding. "I call 'em like I see 'em, Tiggy."

"Then you're seeing shit all wrong 'cause that's not who she is." Tig replied, shaking his head. "Give yourself a minute to get to know her and you might figure that out for yourself."

"Excuse me—"

"Nah, nah," Tig waved her away with the hand holding the bottle of Jack. "Why everyone keeps dancing around you on the subject of Tina I'll never know, but I'm done. Tina has been there for my kid when I couldn't, when her own mother _wouldn't_. Even now, she's helping Fawnzy out with her salon out of the love Tina has for her. How can I overlook all that for shit that happened almost 18 years ago when she was strung out on drugs?"

"Because once a junky whore, always a junky whore!" Gemma exclaimed angrily, the words out of her mouth before she realized who they were directed at—the proud father of a former drug addict now 11 years sober. "Tig, I'm—you know I don't mean—"

But Tig was done listening. Running his free hand over his flushed face and down his goatee, Tig was shaking his head. "With all due respect, Gemma, the bottom line is, whatever happens in this Clubhouse is really none of your business," He started quite calmly as he heard Gemma's sharp intake of breath. "And right now, Tina is a guest in _my_ Clubhouse. I think I've given you fair enough warning that badmouthing her in my presence, in this Clubhouse stops now." Slamming his bottle down on the counter, Tig turned to leave the kitchen, thought better of it, and turned back to face Gemma. "And for the record, Tina has not _rocked my world_. She hasn't even let me get close enough to kiss her. But that shit—that shit changes TONIGHT!" Tig raged without raising his voice, before turning and storming out of the kitchen.

* * *

Otto, completely unaware that his brother's inner turmoil was about to bleed all over him, was having a hell of time as he spoke and laughed with the enchanting woman sitting across from him.

It had been too long since he had been able to enjoy a leisurely conversation with a beautiful woman outside of Stockton's walls. Although the Clubhouse was overrun with beautiful women tonight, only a select few had the brains to keep a man interested and they were already spoken for, except for the lovely Tina Giamatti.

Even though they had never met before, Otto had believed he knew all he needed to know about the woman that had been so horrible to Clay Morrow's daughter. But if the SAMCRO Princess, or Queen as it was, could find it within herself to open her heart to her birth mother and work shit out, who was he to judge otherwise?

Soon, Otto found himself completely charmed by Tina and it shouldn't have come as a surprise how easy it was to talk to her because her daughter was the same way. Truth was that he and Tina had spent most of the time talking about SAMCRO's favorite former grease monkey and her brood consisting of Jax Teller's spawn. It was clear to see how proud Tina was of Jolene and her grandchildren and she made it quite known how grateful she was for the opportunity she had been given to get to know them.

Otto had always been a good judge of character and 15 years in lockup only helped in sharpening that skill, so 20 minutes into their conversation and Big Otto had already known that he liked Tina. If the looks Tig had been aiming in his direction all night were an indication, his old friend believed that Otto liked Tina a little bit too in _that_ way and wasn't happy about it.

His vision may be sorely lacking, but Otto had also noticed that, although Tina was engaging and witty, those telling green eyes of hers often strayed in the direction of the pool table as well, especially when she thought Tig wasn't looking. Tig and Tina were clearly feeling each other, which didn't bother Otto in the least bit. Tina looked just a little too much like the young woman he had watched grow up on the lot for comfort. But Tig had to make a move and soon, before another brother snatched her up.

But even though Tig had spent most of the night with one eye on Tina, Otto was starting to think that, in deference to him, Tig wasn't going to make his move.

That is until Gemma saw fit to get involved.

 _You can always depend on a woman to stir shit up_ , Otto had grinned when the former SAMCRO Queen had approached her son's SAA and asked to have a word with him in the kitchen.

Gemma, Otto noticed, had spent much of the party sitting at the bar drinking mostly by herself, her eyes flitting between Tig and Tina. Her body language spoke volumes and it was clear to Otto that Gemma did not like Tina one bit and considered her an interloper in her Clubhouse. Otto had to bite back a bark of laughter when he saw Gemma finally give up and stomp over to Tig.

That had been about 10 minutes ago and now, Tig Trager was storming his way back into the Main Room. Briefly stopping to take a quick look around, he walked up to one of the Reno charter's girls—a perky young blond with yards of hair and tits the size of watermelons—grabbed her by the hand and, without a word of protest on her part, headed straight for Otto and Tina, the young woman struggling to keep up with him in a pair of 6-inch platforms.

Tina's eyes widened as Tig came to an abrupt halt at the table.

All things considered the evening had gone pretty well. Having been terrified of being thrown into the shark tank with blood already scenting the water, Tina was grateful that she spent the evening talking to Otto and learning more about her daughter and her life growing up on the lot. Out of the thick of things, the two of them managed to create their own bubble of existence in spite of the increased debauchery going on around them.

But having split her time between conversing with Otto and casually watching the SAA, Tina's stomach had clenched with worry when Gemma Morrow had pulled the officer aside to have a little chat.

It had become quite clear to Tina from the moment that she had stepped foot in Charming that there would always be bad blood between her and Gemma. After all, it was Gemma who had taken on the task of raising her daughter. Having bonded with Jolene and her children, it was quite obvious that the Club matriarch was not interested in sharing their affections out of fear of being replaced, and Tina could respect that.

But trying to stir up shit between her and Tig was something altogether different and Tina was surprised to realize just how much it pissed her off. As if having Gemma probably pour venom into his ear wasn't bad enough, Tina had to spend the last couple of hours watching as Tig had first one woman after another draped all over him while he played pool.

Tina was not accustomed to getting mixed signals from men and certainly didn't like it when it happened. But deciding that it was probably for the best anyway, Tina decided to write Tig off as a lost cause.

 _Let him enjoy his Bimbos on Parade_ ,she thought dismally.

But now, as Tig stalked up to their table, Tina realized that the outlaw biker was more than just a little pissed at both her and Otto.

"Sorry to interrupt," Tig said in an uncompromising tone. "But I thought it was time for Otto to spend some time with some of the merchandise the Club's already paid for."

Otto leaned back in his chair to take in the combative stance of his brother and grinned.

_Shit, I got him now. We may end up in the ring tonight after all._

"Nah, bro. I'm having a great time here with Tina. I was just thinking that it might be nice for us to spend some time together real soon." Looking at the startled eyes of the woman sitting across from him, Otto winked suavely. "How about it, Tina? What are you doing tomorrow morning? I'd love to give you a ride on my bike."

"Oh fuck no!" Tig responded for her. "She'll be too fuckin' busy."

"I—I will?" Tina asked, confused by the dick-yanking contest that had suddenly erupted.

"Yeah," Tig confirmed grimly. Otto nearly bust a gut when, in one smooth motion, his brother tossed the skinny blond into his lap and grabbed Tina's arm to gently, but firmly pull her out of her seat. "You'll be too busy recovering." He said as he pulled her along.

Completely shocked at finding herself being dragged away from Otto—who was practically doubled over with laughter—without her consent, Tina momentarily lost the power of speech. Finally regaining it, she opened her mouth. "Recovering from what?!" She squeaked.

Tig came to a full stop and turned around to face her, his eyes glittering like bright blue marbles as he towered over her. "From riding _me_ all night, Doll _._ " He retorted.

And turning on his heel with a "don't fuck with me" glare plastered on his face, Tig made a beeline towards the dorms, partygoers stumbling out of his path as he dragged Tina behind him. Tina only had a moment to note Fawn's open mouth as she made to stand up to follow her, only to be pushed back down on the couch by her brawny old man.

As they headed towards the dorms, Tig stalked by Gemma. Slowing down, he quirked his head towards her, as if daring her to say something. Gemma turned back into the kitchen as Tig tugged Tina's hand once more and disappeared down the hall.


	29. Treat Her Like an Old Lady

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The salon had officially closed the week before as the partners reached the final phase of what was starting to feel like a lifetime project: the remodeling of the first floor space. Giving the staff of Gina's Cut-N-Curl time off with pay during the final weeks of renovations, if all went according to plan, everyone would be heading back to work at Charming's newest (and only) full-service salon, _Take Five_ , in less than a week's time.

It was a few minutes past eight o'clock on Monday morning and Fawn and Lexie were sitting in the only items left from the old shop, the plastic bowl chairs that had served for many years as the reception area, sipping on coffee from Nicky's Diner. Despite a number of glitches during the first week, construction was now moving along and completion was expected before the end of the week, several days ahead of schedule.

While a crew worked on the installation of the new hair stations, another crew was working on re-facing the exterior of the building. The noise of the work currently being done on the outside was loud and, when the interior crew arrived in less than an hour, the noise would soon reach a deafening level. But at this point, Fawn could live with a little hearing loss if it meant seeing this immense undertaking finally come to a fruitful conclusion. Determined to see this project through to the bitter end, the partners had made the effort to be present during this final phase and just like during all of last week, they were on site bright and early in the morning.

That is, everyone except for Tina Giamatti.

"So you haven't heard from her _all_ weekend?" Lexie questioned, her light brown eyes widening with salacious interest as she bounced the leg crossed over her knee.

"No, I haven't. Tina's been MIA ever since—" Fawn stopped as she ran an agitated hand through her hair.

"Ever since your dad dragged off her to his love den." Lexie finished with a sigh. "Damn, that's so fuckin' hot!"

"It's disgusting, you heifer!" Fawn griped. "That's my father and best friend you're talking about."

"Actually, Tina's more like your mother," Her friend corrected airily. "And it makes perfect sense that they would end up, you know, _connecting_. Besides, your dad's hot. That lucky bitch has been in town, what, less than six weeks and she's already hooked herself up with a hot biker? Shit! I give Tina her props. I wanna be just like her when I grow up." Lexie teased.

"This from the woman who was terrified of my father when I first introduced him to you." Fawn reminded her.

"Nah-uh," Lexie started. "You and your father have the same crazy eyes that can read people like a book. I was only afraid that he'd take one look at me and realize just how much I wanted him to ravage me."

Fawn shook her head as she casually leaned back in her chair. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

Upon entering the salon, Fawn had indignantly related to Lexie how during Big Otto Delaney's welcome home party over the weekend Tig had practically peed on Tina, thus marking his territory. Then, in front of the entire Clubhouse, he had dragged her best friend off to his dorm, neither one to be seen or heard from again. That had been at least 36 hours ago and after leaving numerous messages on Tina's cell and home phones, Fawn had finally given up on her friend, hoping that, at the very least, if she was still alive that she'd be able to walk.

"Boy, I never pegged you as a cock-blocker before." Lexie grinned at her irate friend. "I thought you were all about advocating for hot and dirty biker love."

"I am. _For me!_ Not for my best friend with my _Dad_." Fawn advised. "From what I could tell, Tina piqued the interest of many patches on Saturday the minute she stepped on the lot. I was hoping she would hook up with a tenderoni like Tiki because Tina's a great cougar. She knows how to train her cubs well. They eventually move on, but I am sure the young'uns she's bagged go on to make many a woman quite happy."

Lexie made happy girl noises. "Please do tell." She invited eagerly.

"That's not the point." Fawn rolled her eyes. "Well, maybe it is. Tina can certainly handle the young pretty boy-types back in Seattle. _This is Charming_ and Tig Trager's not the trainable kind. I ought to know because my mother tried for years before she finally threw in the fuckin' towel. He's a hardcore biker who loves his Club, his bike, his mood-altering substances and enjoying a variety of women, at once or all together—in that order. And he's definitely not one to take shit from the 'weaker' sex either."

Lexie shook her head. "From what I've learned about Tina these past few weeks, she's been through and has overcome a lot. She's a strong woman—like you—and she doesn't seem like the type who couldn't handle herself with a man like your dad. I think you're worrying just a tad too much."

Fawn was about to reply that she wasn't worrying enough when both women heard the back door of the salon open and close. Soon they heard the clicking of high heels on the newly-installed marble floor as someone rapidly made their way through the salon.

"Finally!" Fawn said exasperated as she leaped to her feet. "Heifer, is that you?!"

"Gurl, work that Walk of Shame, damn it!" Lexie hooted.

"You two jealous bitches need to stop with the hate." A sultry voice replied as the body attached to it walked around the large partition separating the work stations from the reception area. As Tina came into view, both Fawn and Lexie were momentarily silenced.

Not only could she walk just fine, but Tina Giamatti looked radiant, the warm, healthy glow on her face due to more than just the right make up, Fawn was sure. Wearing a V-neck wrap dress the color of deep coral with an elegant pair of 4-inch taupe Jimmy Choo sandals and a matching handbag, Tina made quite the fetching picture. Her hair, loose in bouncy waves down to her shoulders, was complimented by a pair of large gold hoop earrings and expertly applied make up. Tina was the epitome of beauty and sophistication, but judging by the shit-eating grin she was sporting, still managed to look like a woman who had spent the entire weekend being completely and thoroughly fucked by an expert.

"Bitch, please! I haven't _begun_ to hate on your ass yet!" Her would-be daughter complained. "Don't you know how to pick up a damn phone?"

Flinging her bag into one of the chairs, Tina sat down in the other, stretching her long legs out as she sighed reverently. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but my hands _and_ my mouth were full." Hearing Lexie squeal as Fawn scowled, Tina grinned. "And furthermore, as somebody who has been thoroughly enjoying having her needs met on the regular, I thought you would've been happy for me."

"Uh, not when I know that the man screwing your brains out is my frickin' crazy ass of a father." Fawn slumped into one of the chairs and crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant teenager.

"Oh, forget Fawn's whining." Lexie waved her friend away. "You're alive, you look gorgeous, and prolly had the best sex of your life. I want to hear all the dirty deets."

Tina looked at her two young friends and smiled wryly. The expressions on their faces couldn't be further apart: Lexie's excited bordering on lecherous and Fawn's pained bordering on nauseous. Fawn Trager could be labeled many things, but a prude was not one of them. Tina realized that it was going to take her a minute to get past the discomfort of knowing that her father was bedding—quite aggressively, by the way—her best friend.

Initially, as Tig was dragging her off to his room, Tina had every intention of relieving him of the notion that they would end up in bed together. It didn't come as a surprise to her that she found herself in such a situation as the outlaw biker had been pushing for this to happen between them from the moment they had laid eyes on each other.

During another time, in another place, Tina would not have second guessed her decision to give into her baser instincts. But with her arrival in Charming causing such a stir, Tina didn't want to rock the boat any further, especially after Jolene had reached out to her. Tina had managed to keep Tig at arm's length, in spite of several intimate dinners in her home. He had respected the boundaries she had set between them, but she had still managed to be somewhat disappointed by Tig's reaction to the interest she had created among his brothers, Big Otto in particular.

Before she knew what was happening, Tina found herself being whisked away by the newly paroled Otto Delaney to an intimate corner of the Clubhouse with Tig standing aside and just letting it happen. His sudden indifference had her feeling like Club pussy, to be used and passed around. The mixed signals Tig was putting out—first all hot and horny to be in her company and then dumping her on another patch so he could hang out with a score of skanky women—had disappointed Tina more than she had been willing to admit.

Then, again without warning, Tig had snatched her up from Big Otto and had dragged her off to his room. Even now, Tina's sore thigh muscles clenched together as she remembered the heated look in his bewitching blue eyes as he stopped before reaching the hallway to make his intentions perfectly clear.

" _You'll be too fuckin' tired from riding me." He had assured her._

And he was right. Thoroughly. Completely. Without abandon. She had not just let her freak flag out, she had let the damn thing fly over the fuckin' Clubhouse for all to see!

She hadn't, however, fallen into bed with Tig right away. Finding a moment to catch her breath as the dorm door slammed closed behind them, Tina had managed to hold off the outlaw just long enough to get him to acknowledge where the fuck his head was. Tina was not about to embark on a fling, even a one-off, until she knew what all the mixed signals he had thrown at her meant.

 _But once that had been cleared up_ , Tina grinned inwardly, _the party had definitely been on_.

And now, after being _incommunicado_ for the past two days, it only seemed fair to Tina that she share some of the naughty details, at least with the one party that was interested.

"I don't know, Lex. It seems like Fawn is regressing and might not be old enough to hear the shit I got up to with her father." Tina replied drolly and looked over at the cringing woman sitting next to her.

_Poor baby._

"You know that's not even funny, right?" Fawn gave Tina the patented dead-eye stare from her teenage years.

Lexie let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't listen to her, Tina. I haven't been laid since I broke up with my last boyfriend. Let me live vicariously through you."

Fawn flashed Lexie an incredulous look. "Girl, I thought you broke up with your last boyfriend six months ago, _before_ I came to Charming."

"I did, but with everything going on with _Take Five_ , who has the time for sex?" Lexie replied.

"I do!" Both Tina and Fawn exclaimed together, forcing Fawn to finally loosen up as they both doubled over with laughter.

"My next project is working on getting you some." Fawn declared. "No wonder I went to Murphy's the other day and they were all out of batteries." She teased.

"Hey!" Lexie pointed a finger at Fawn in mock-anger. "I think I'm in love with my vibrator, so watch how you talk about him."

"Oh gawd, you bitches are too much," Fawn laughed as she ran her hands over her face. "Go ahead, T. Give her something, but just don't get too graphic."

"Now I know it was good," Lexie said, wasting no time in getting back to the topic at hand. "I can tell just by looking at you, _but_ _how good was it_?"

"Really, _really_ good." Tina replied happily. "My only complaint was how come no one thought to sound-proof the dorms in an MC Clubhouse?"

"Amen, sister." Fawn called out. "But I think it's some sort of badge of honor making a woman holla and having everyone know about it."

Tina shook her head. "Well, I guess it's a good thing the music was blasting in the Main Room."

"Still wasn't as loud as you." Fawn murmured from behind her hand as if she hadn't been the one to say it.

"What?!" Tina playfully swatted at her friend. "Okay, then I'm so glad we checked out after a couple of hours and headed to my place."

"You no good heifer!" Fawn complained. "I waited almost 'til dawn for you to reappear before Ope literally carried me away to his dorm. How the hell did you get out?"

"There's a back door at the far end of the corridor. We slipped out and hopped on his ride." Tina enthused. "It's been years since I've been on a bike and it was awesome." Her face was almost blissful as she thought about how it felt to wrap her arms around Tig's waist and lean into his back as he took the streets and dipped into the curves on the way to her place.

"I'll bet my share of the salon that he's got some serious pipe!" Lexie said avidly.

"Hey!" Fawn started protesting.

Ignoring Fawn, the older woman nodded her head at Lexie, her grin threatening to split her face in two. "The man is packing some serious heat. Long and—ohmigod—I could just barely get my hand around it, and when he bent me over, I swear I could feel him in my throat—"

At that, Fawn leaped up from her chair and headed towards the back of the salon. "For the record," She called out. "I was trying to be a good sport, but a girl's gotta draw the line somewhere." She complained as Tina and Lexie cackled before continuing their X-rated conversation.

* * *

It was nice to have the smell of motor oil and gasoline on his hands and in his clothes once again.

Leaning against the picnic table outside the Clubhouse, Big Otto grinned to himself as he lit up a cigarette. It was a great day to be a free man doing the work that he had always enjoyed. Wearing a brand new T-M work shirt with his name embroidered on the pocket, a pair of brand new dark-wash jeans and a favorite pair of beat up steel-toed boots, he stretched his long legs out while enjoying his smoke. The biker had decided to take a little break from the Audi that was sitting in one of the garage bays. Not having worked as a mechanic for nearly 15 years, Big Otto had wondered whether or not he had retained his skills. It was nice to see that in spite of getting older, his brain hadn't completely fossilized during his time inside.

With nearly a week having passed since his return, the outlaw had thrown himself back into Club life with a vengeance. He had completely enjoyed his welcome home party, managing to thoroughly reacquaint himself with weed, women and whiskey in excess for nearly two straight days. It had taken another full day for him to recover from his exertions, but after having exorcised a good portion of partying out of his system, Otto was more than ready to quickly settle back into his life as a biker surrounded by his brothers.

Otto knew it was going to take him a minute to get back into the rhythm of living his life without being held accountable to anyone but himself, his brotherhood and his family. Being incarcerated for such a long period of time fucked with a man's head. Not having some bull breathing down his neck, watching his every move and telling him what to do and when to do it was going to take some getting used to again. Sometimes, Otto felt at a loss of what to do with himself.

Even sleeping in a Clubhouse full of brothers he knew would always have his back had been a little daunting. His dorm at the Clubhouse was almost three times bigger than his cell had been. All that space left him feeling vulnerable, especially as he would drift off to sleep. He would find himself startling awake several times during the night, momentarily forgetting that he wasn't in Stockton anymore and didn't need to sleep with one eye open.

After one too many sleepless nights at the Clubhouse, Jax's eagle-eye old lady noticed and tried to convince him to move into the Tellers' spare bedroom. He loved Jolene and appreciated her concern, but at his age, Otto knew that it was now or never when it came to adapting to life on the outside once again. After doing long stretches, some men never found their way in the world again and ended up making a return trip to lock up. He'd put a bullet in his own head before he let that happen.

He did, however, enjoy spending as much time as possible with Jax and Jolene in their home, surrounded by their rugrats and eating the delicious meals Neeta prepared for him. It never ceased to amaze Otto the radical changes he saw in Jax. Gone was the quick-to-anger, reactive, and somewhat arrogant young man that had dealt with hurt and loss by hurting those he loved and pushing them away. In his place was a mature, level-headed leader Big Otto was proud to call his President. Otto liked to think that he had played a small part in helping Jax become that man, but if he had been Jax's mentor, it was obvious that Gemma had been Jolene's. It still amazed him to see how she had grown from raucous tomboy to reckless teenager to confused young woman, finally morphing into the woman Jax was proud to call his Queen. Jolene took to heart her responsibility of fiercely loving her old man, keeping the SAMCRO President focused, strong, and happy—a million miles away from the man Jax Teller had been when Jolene had left Charming so many years ago. She was definitely the glue keeping him, as well as their entire SAMCRO family, together.

After almost a week as a free man, Otto was finally settling into life on the lot once again. His brothers had pulled out all of the shit they had kept for him in storage after Luann died and now, surrounded by his personal effects, Otto was slowly turning his dorm into a home. Soon, he hoped, he wouldn't find the prospect of moving into a place of his own all by himself so overwhelming. For the time being, with his brothers, their old ladies and the croweaters making sure his every need was met, Otto was content with living in the Clubhouse.

"Hey, old man! It's only eleven o'clock and you're taking a break already?" Otto looked up in time to see the SAMCRO VP striding towards him. "I guess you forgot how tiring earning an honest living could be." Opie teased, his open T-M work shirt flapping in the breeze over a white wife beater, a dark woolen hat firmly attached to his head.

"I see you're still wearing that ratty-looking hat of yours," Otto shot back. "Nice to see that not much has changed around here, shithead."

"It's not ratty! It's a classic look for me." Opie playfully admonished. "Just don't say shit to Fawn about it, brother. This is the only one left after she purged my dorm and threw the rest away. She can't fuckin' stand seeing me wear a 'beanie'." Opie lit a cigarette and sat down next to Otto.

Big Otto snorted with laughter. "Sounds like a handful, man. Must be a chip off the ol' Tigger."

Opie chuckled as he took a drag from his smoke. "That she is, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

The two men sat in companionable silence, enjoying their cigarettes and the fresh air before Otto spoke again. "It's really good seeing you with someone again, Ope. I haven't had the chance to really talk to her yet, but she must be a good woman if she makes you happy."

"Yeah, Fawn's an amazing woman." Opie smiled. "And she is just as crazy as her old man, but she's just the woman I need."

Otto cocked an eyebrow at the younger man's expression. It was easy to see that he was thoroughly enamored of the fiery redhead. "Tig was bragging all over his kid every time he came up to see me in Stockton. How long you've been together now?"

"Just over the summer, if you can believe it. I met her when she first showed up in Charming back in the spring when Tigger was in the hospital. We butted heads a lot and it took a _long_ time to get to know her. As much as I wanted to tap that fine ass, there were more than a few times when I wanted to throttle her within an inch of her short life."

"I'm glad you didn't give into the temptation because that shit's par for the course with practically every good bitch worth your while, brother." Otto replied. "So what happened between the two of you that kept you from killing Tig's kid?"

Sitting back, Otto listened intently as Opie expounded on how his life had taken a crazy turn with Fawn Trager. The older biker spent a good portion of the time laughing and razzing his brother over the ups and downs of his relationship with the flame-haired beauty and how she quickly became a part of the Winston family even before he had "tapped that ass".

"She more than fits in around here, don't she?" Otto chuckled. "Seems like you caught a tiger by the tail, Ope."

"Maybe, but now I've tamed her down to a kitten." Opie boasted with a wink. "It hasn't been easy, but at least I have a better sense of how to hold onto a wildcat than my predecessor did."

"Ah, an old flame, huh?

Opie nodded. "The guy's an asshole. Pretty much set me up as not too bad of a catch in Fawn's eyes. Then the idiot decides to show up in Charming—"

Otto snorted. "To get his woman back?"

"MY woman," Opie corrected emphatically. "But yeah. What he got instead was a busted face and his final walking papers. Fawn wasn't exactly happy that we tore up her shop, but hey," He shrugged his shoulders. "The whole mess finally got us to the point where we had no choice but to admit what we mean to each other, that what we have going is more than just a fling."

"Good for you, brother!" Otto clapped him on the back. "If that's the case, why the fuck haven't you crowed her yet?" He asked bluntly.

 _Now that's a good question_ , Opie thought _._

The fact was that Opie had been biding his time, waiting for the right moment. With Fawn a little gun-shy when it came to long-term relationships, he was afraid of pushing her to move on their commitment to each other too quickly. The truth was that they both had baggage they needed to get rid of first when it came to past relationships and lost loves. Their time away in Crescent City had given them the time and the space they needed to do just that. Opie knew in his heart that they had returned to Charming a stronger couple, more in love with each other than even he thought possible.

"I guess that with all the family shit going on between Fawn, Jolene and Tina, the timing just never seemed right." Opie replied.

"Well, brother, if the plan is to wait until all the everyday bullshit settles down, lemme tell ya, don't because shit ain't ever gonna settle down for a man with the Reaper on his back." Otto advised. "You'll get old waiting for that shit to happen or Fawn may grow tired of waiting. I may be old, but I still got at least one fully-functioning eye in my head."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Opie asked irritably.

"Yo, relax, okay? I just got out of prison _and_ I like living, so I'm not after your girl." Opie smiled sheepishly at his brother's words. "But I did notice that in spite of the fact that there was pussy for days at my bash last Saturday, there were also a lot of patches looking at Fawn just a little too hard for my taste. A few even tried pressing up on her, but she was real good at giving them the slip."

"You noticed all that?" Opie queried. "Who exactly was pressing up on her?"

Otto shook his head. "They were all out-of-town brothers, Ope. Nobody close enough that they would know about you and Fawn, especially since she's not crowed and you know that makes her fair game." He explained as Opie shook his head. He must have been ten sheets to the wind not to notice any of his brothers getting too familiar with his Big Red. "The point is, it's a very lucky man that gets a second chance to start a life with a woman he loves and who would make a good old lady. I mean, how serious are you about that? Are you thinking about putting a ring on it?"

"Brother, I get the feeling that trying to get Fawn to go down that route might prove difficult. Her parents had a shitty relationship and that fucked with her head when it comes to thinking long-term, forget about marriage." Opie explained.

"But you wanna go down that route with her, right?"

"Yeah. I do" Opie admitted.

"Sounds like crowing her would be your best option, Ope. Besides, to me at least, a crow is more binding than anything you can give to a woman. It has nothing to do with ownership—anyone whose ever loved a woman knows you don't own her, but she sure as shit owns you. It's a permanent and visible sign of the love you have for her, marking her as yours and you as hers. You wouldn't believe me if I told you the number of wedding rings Luann lost over our twenty years together, but that crow tat on her titty, she couldn't wash that shit away. Your brothers are more inclined to respect that tat as your bond to your woman and they'll leave her be."

Hearing it expressed like that made an impact on Opie. As much as he had loved Donna and always would, Opie had never asked her to wear his crow. Unlike Jolene, who proudly wore both Jax's "Property of" vest and his crow, Donna didn't see the point in either one. Life for Donna had always revolved around her husband and children, not the Club. He knew that for her, a ring was enough and he loved and respected her too much to insist that she mark herself permanently with something she didn't want and saw no need for.

Fawn was different. Although he believed she would balk at actually getting married, Fawn would understand that the significance of the tat meant more than just a commitment, but that he loved her, would be there for her no matter what and would even give his life for her if he had to.

Looking over at his brother, Opie nodded at Otto's knowing dark blue eyes. Slapping a hand on his back, he grinned. "Sometimes I wonder how the hell we got along for so long without having you around to help us keep our shit in line, you old fart."

Grinning, Otto was about to reply as he nodded to the biker that was making his way towards them. "Yo, Hap!"

The sun was gleaming off the bald head and fully bare torso of the Tacoma Killah as he wiped his dirty hands on a greasy rag and strolled up to his brothers.

"So what's this, you two girls having a chat?" Happy snarked as he caught the pack of cigarettes that Otto tossed him one-handed.

"Yeah, we are and, funny enough, we've been talking about you." Otto said grinning.

"What? Shit, I know. You just can't get enough of all this manliness, right?" Happy made a point of flexing his muscles, his tattoos ferocious and colorful. "Damn, Tigger might be right about you. Too much time in that sausage factory has developed some newfangled tastes in you."

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, or I'll have to kick your ass in the ring tonight." Otto said with a light in his eyes. "Now sit down cuz Ope's gotta talk to you about taking care of some real important shit for him."

* * *

"It's absolutely fuckin' gorgeous!" Fawn crowed, ecstatic with joy.

The afternoon sunlight was still strong in spite of the late hour. Standing in front of the salon, the three partners of _Take Five_ were giddy with pride and excitement as they took in their finally completed and brand-spanking new salon.

"I can't believe it," Lexie said breathlessly. "I'm looking at it, but I still can't believe it." With sudden tears springing from her eyes, Lexie reached out to squeeze Fawn's hand.

Fawn, in turn, wrapped her free arm around Tina's shoulders and hugged her to her side. "We couldn't have done any of it without you."

"I don't believe that for a minute," Tina smiled as she reached over and wiped away the tear tracks on Lexie's cheek. "Aside from a few bumps in the road concerning money, you girls had everything under control. With or without me, I have no doubt that you would be standing right where you are now."

"In front of our beautiful new salon!" Lexie exclaimed as she jumped up and down. "I still can't believe it! I'm afraid that I'm gonna wake up and realize this is all a dream!"

Standing there and looking up at the newly-installed signage on the façade of the building, Fawn was equally awestruck. After months of setbacks and near-bankruptcy, the partners were finally one huge step closer to the grand opening. As difficult as the renovations had been, Fawn knew that the easy part was over. Now the real work of making the salon a profitable success was about to begin and she could hardly wait.

With the salon closed for the last two weeks, the Oswald Construction crew had shifted into overdrive to complete the first floor's remodel. The space had been completely gutted and the crew had worked hard to fix and paint walls, install wall and window treatments, new marble floors, nine top-of-the-line work stations, and an expanded reception area. Everything had been progressing smoothly until the work was brought to a near-halt as a large number of construction materials went missing. The delay had put them behind schedule again, but Elliott Oswald had generously authorized his crew to work overtime for just the cost of the materials, which he also discounted. In order to keep the partners within their budget, Oswald had also written off any overruns.

The last of the major construction work, however, had taken place outside. The brand new entrance, which was centrally located, was made of heavy glass double doors with ornate gold handles and surrounded by elegantly etched glass windows. The building itself was refaced with a mix of muted brown, rose and gold streaked stones that gave off an exotic glow when the sun hit them a certain way. Stockton Signs, a popular firm in NorCal, had worked alongside the graphic designer Tina had hired to create the logo to represent the business and the final flourish to the exterior had been the installation of the salon's signage that afternoon. _Take Five_ was prominently displayed in a unique bold dark brown script above the entrance.

As the three women reveled in the afterglow of a job well done, a voice interrupted their busy chatter.

"Okay, c'mon!" Ellie said eagerly. "This is a special moment and we need to memorialize it with some pictures to display in the salon." She quickly ushered them into place in front of the door. "I want to get these shots before we completely lose the light."

With their arms around each other and Fawn in the middle, the three women didn't need to be prodded into saying "cheese" as they were all beaming happily. Ellie waited for the traffic on Main Street to die down before dashing into the middle of the street. Using the high-powered digital camera Fawn had purchased especially for use in the salon, Ellie took a number of wide-angled photos of the entire building, followed by several close-ups of the trio.

Huddling around Ellie on the sidewalk, they scanned through the digital shots. "Oh, I really like this one." Tina pointed to a close up of them that managed to catch the signage as well. "I'm using this one for the press packets I'm putting together to send to all the local newspapers in Sanwa County. Our ads announcing the grand opening start running this weekend in all the Sunday papers."

"Oh my gawd! This is really happening, isn't it?" Lexie was obviously still in need of someone to pinch her.

Almost bubbling over with excitement, Fawn grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the entrance. "Let's go back inside. I want to look around one more time now that all the workmen are gone."

Entering the salon, Fawn stopped and took a good, long look at their collective vision for a high-end salon materialized. Reception, with a six-foot deep brown wall separating it from the work stations, had a large seating area on either side of the reception desk. The beautifully furnished area had comfortable leather chairs and loveseats in muted tones of taupe and cream and decorated with lovely art deco pieces and accent tables. With a small coat check discreetly set up in the far right corner, the new reception area was completely warm and inviting. Fawn couldn't wait for the perennials and plants that Rita was pulling together for her that would brighten up the already gorgeously lit salon.

Ellie plopped down into one of the reception chairs and moaned. "I could sit here all day." She announced, wriggling as her backside sank into the supple leather comfortably.

Walking behind the partition that separated the front of the salon with the work area, Fawn felt like she had died and gone to heaven. The nine gleaming work stations were spread apart and across the wide open expanse, allowing for plenty of elbow room. Each station was dark brown with a large granite top and ornate mirror outlined in bronze and gold. With a black ergonomically-designed client chair sitting in front of each station on a floor of dark grayish-blue marble, each station was incredibly beautiful, but highly functional. Fawn had picked her work station to be in the middle of the salon, the perfect spot for an optimum view of the entire first floor. This would allow her to keep an eye on her stylists and making sure that all of their clients' needs were being met.

Lexie, whose station was one chair over and towards the front of the salon, sat in her client chair and spun around like a happy child. "My mom is gonna shit a brick when she sees this. I betcha she'll try to convince my Dad to move back to Charming just so she can work with us!"

The small group headed towards the group of rooms that ran along the back of the salon, each with an open doorway. The first housed the new shampoo area with six stations. It was decorated in soft rose tones and was designed to give the client a relaxing and peaceful experience as they had their hair washed.

"Damn, Fawn. With the sinks all the way back here, it looks like you're gonna have to find a new weapon of choice to keep the heifers and your crazy exes in line." Lexie teased as they all laughed.

Fawn knew that the client's would be hard pressed to want to leave the next room. The eight state-of-the-art hair dryers were attached to comfortable chairs and had speakers which could pipe in audio from the three flat screen TVs to be installed or from satellite radio. The area also housed a lovely display which could hold several dozen magazines spanning a vast variety of topics such as fashion, gossip, food and wine, and even gardening and home décor.

In close proximity to both the shampoo and dryer rooms was the storage closet—technically big enough to be considered a room—which was set up to hold all the products necessary for hair care as well as linen such as towels and fresh aprons. And finally, fed up with making coffee with water pilfered from the shampoo station, Fawn had insisted on a proper employee lounge with a kitchen and separate eating area.

Finally, in the far right corner of the salon, opposite the two restrooms, both of which were handicap accessible, was the back entrance from the alleyway and the stairway and elevator leading to _Take Five's Body Beautiful Salon_ on the second floor.

Heading upstairs, the woman grinned and hugged one another again as they took in the small reception area just off of the open stairway. Oswald Construction had transformed the large open space into two distinct sections to house the nail salon and the six rooms that would be used for waxing, facials, massages and the hydrotherapy tub. Off the side from where the elevator was located was another set of rest rooms, a small storage room and the administrative office.

The fully carpeted office, which held three small work stations and a large meeting table in the center, was decorated in shades of rose and gray and a large picture window that looked out into the alleyway. Not the best of views, but it let in an abundance of sunlight.

Now gathered around a cherry wood table, the four women discussed the final plans for the grand opening of the salon. With a pair of stylish designer glasses perched on her nose, Tina opened her planner and had her iPad at the ready.

"I've been saving a piece of good news that I received this morning until now." She grinned as she looked around the table. "The little weasel from the Sanwa Buildings Department called to advise that _Take Five_ has passed inspection and we will receive our Certificate of Occupancy by overnight courier!"

"Woo hoo!" Fawn did a little happy dance in her chair. "That's unbelievable. What in the world happened to get him to light a fire under his own ass?"

"Elliott Oswald happened." Tina replied.

"Oswald? How the hell did he make that shit happen?" Lexie asked.

"After my last meeting with him regarding cost overruns, I mentioned how, in spite of the free overtime he was fronting for his crew, we might still fall behind schedule because of the inspection. Mr. Oswald, it seems, doesn't only have deep pockets, but some major connections down at the Buildings Department." Tina explained. "The fact that you have your own connections, namely with SAMCRO, and are his wife's favorite hair stylist, prompted him to make just one call to that right person down there and voilà! The rest, as they say, is history."

"I never would've considered Elliott a henpecked husband." Lexie laughed.

"I would," Fawn replied knowingly. "Believe it or not, between Karen Oswald and SAMCRO, Elliott was wise to choose being afraid of his wife."

"She can't be all that bad," Tina chimed in.

"You be quiet before I send you to beauty school just so you can learn how to do her hair." Fawn threatened jokingly.

"Speaking of which," Lexie spoke up, sitting up in her chair. "I was able to schedule a handful of interviews for late next week for the two hair stylists we want to hire to begin with. I'm also expecting a call from that school in Sacramento with information on a couple of experienced manicurists who completed their training a couple of years ago. Just let me know what days work for you, T, and I'll schedule the interviews for you."

"Sounds great. I have some last minute items I need to attend to which I put off until we got the Certificate of Occupancy. I'll let you know as soon as I'm available." Tina advised.

"How about you, Elle?" Fawn turned to face Opie's daughter. "Anything to report?"

"I had to push back delivery for the new accounting and computer hardware, the six flat screen TV's and the sound equipment until Juice gets a chance to install the alarm system. He's not due back from his run with Tiki to Tacoma for another couple of days. The equipment should arrive by the end of next week, which should give him enough time to work on the alarm." Ellie said as she looked at her notepad.

"Excellent! Meanwhile, I am finalizing our big supply order from Beauty World because buying in bulk gives us a bigger discount _and_ we now have plenty of storage room." Fawn said as she scrolled through her lists on her iPad. "I've also set meetings to go over the final orders for the grand opening bash with Stems  & Bulbs, House of Cupcakes, and Murphy's Stop-N-Shop. Thanks to Tina, these local businesses are giving us a discount and all we have to do is discreetly display their advertisements in the salon. As a new business, we need to foster all the good will and community spirit we can with other businesses in the area. Paying for advertisements is a smart move for us now, but word of mouth is what's gonna get us operating in the black by this time next year."

"We haven't even opened yet and we're already having an effect on the business district." Tina advised. "Elliott tells me he's meeting with Rhonda from Charming Diary Works across the street soon. She wants to spruce up her shop and is thinking about using Oswald Construction."

"I stopped in there this morning and Rhonda told me she's even considering adding a high-end line of products aimed at adults—skinny treats, gelato, coffee drinks. She said someone was interested in buying her store, but she's glad—" Lexie stopped as Fawn's phone, which was lying on the table started chiming.

Seeing the picture of her sexy old man sitting on his bike taken during their trip to Crescent City, Fawn snatched up the phone. "I'm sorry, Lex, but I need to take this."

"Oh brother," Tina said laughingly as Fawn got up to leave the room. "I'm getting this strange vibe that's telling me we're done for the night."

 _Not that I mind_ , Tina thought with a gleam in her eye. _Tig said he might drop by tonight after Church._

Standing in front of the reception area of _Take Five Body Beautiful_ , Fawn grinned as she answered her phone. "Well, seems like _somebody's_ in a heated rush to see me tonight." She purred. "You miss me, baby?"

"All the fuckin' time," Opie growled. "Any plans on finishing up soon, babe? It's almost 8:00."

"I'm waiting on you, Redwood. You're supposed to be meeting me at the salon after Church, remember?" Fawn countered. "I want you to be the first person to see the finished product."

"Change of plans, sweetheart. We can see it later tonight, I promise, but it's really important that you come to the Clubhouse ASAP, babe." Opie replied.

Blinking her eyes, Fawn fell silent for a moment. _Is that nervous excitement I hear in his voice?_

Fawn didn't know what was going on, but obviously it was important enough that her man wanted her there almost to the point of issuing a direct order.

"Okay, baby. Let me just wrap up with the girls and I can be there in thirty."

"Sounds like a plan. Jolene's here, so you might as well bring Tina and Ellie along with ya."

_Bring Ellie to an after-Church party? Fawn mused._

_Okay_ , inner-Fawn interjected. _Now that's fuckin' weird._

Wrinkling her nose in confusion and some trepidation, Fawn decided to stop over thinking shit. "Okay. See ya soon." Hanging up the phone, Fawn slowly headed back to the office.

 _Oh shit_ , Fawn ran her hand through her hair. _I hope this has nothing to do with Ellie and Tiki._

* * *

The sky was pitch black by the time Fawn pulled into the lot with Tina trailing behind her. It had been hours since the garage had officially closed for the night and with Church over for SAMCRO, the party was in full swing. In spite of the slight chill in the night air, the lot outside the Clubhouse was crowded with members as well as hang-arounds milling about, socializing, drinking beer and smoking weed.

Ellie, who was sitting in the passenger seat of Fawn's car, grinned as she caught sight of her twin in his prospect kutte as it reflected the light given off by several drum fires that were blazing around the lot. As usual, instead of enjoying the festivities, he was busy working, making sure that every patch he saw had a drink in his hand. Ellie shook her head, smirking, as Kenny slapped the firm ass of a sweetbutt wearing cut-offs that could pass for a G-string as he passed her by.

"I love my brother, I really do, but he can be such a cocky asshole sometimes." She sighed as she watched the blonde tart chase after him with Kenny pausing long enough to drape his arm around her shoulders. "He's such a whore hound."

"It's the nature of the beast, sweetie." Fawn replied as she parked her car along the side of the lot. "All men are dogs."

"Not my Dad."

Fawn chuckled. "Did you already forget about that cheap blonde dye job croweater I wiped the floor of the salon with?"

"I wish I could," Emily said ruefully. "But that was _before_ you. You know that, right?"

"I do," Fawn nodded with a small smile.

"My Dad really loves you." Ellie added. Fawn quirked an eyebrow at her. She and Opie hadn't really discussed the state of their relationship with his children after their return from Crescent City.

"You can tell, huh?" Fawn smiled hugely.

Ellie nodded. "I may be young, but I know when I've seen two people who really care about each other—Uncle Jax and Aunt Jo, Gemma and Clay, my Mom and Dad, and now you and Daddy. I know Dad loves you, Fawn, which now makes you a big part of SAMCRO, but you've always been a part of _our_ family. Both Kenny and I feel that way. I just thought you should know."

Fawn felt a lump rise in her throat as she reached over to enthusiastically hug the younger woman and felt heartened when Ellie returned her affection.

"Oh gawd, look at me!" Fawn swiped the tears from her eyes as she laughed. "You're making me cry. Hearing you say that means the world to me, Elle. I want you to know that I love you and Kenny and I love your Dad very, _very_ much. You Winstons are my first real family and I feel very lucky to have all you in my life."

Hugging again, the two women were now both crying and laughing when they suddenly heard a light tapping on the window. Pulling apart, they saw Tina peering at them through the driver's side window, her head cocked to the side and a broad smile on her face. Grinning, Fawn and Ellie exited the car and pulled Tina in between them as they crossed the lot and entered the Clubhouse.

Fawn's eyes roamed the Main Room, taking note of all the familiar faces. She smiled as she caught sight of Jolene Teller bent over the pool table in a classic pool hustler pose, her face a mask of serene confidence as she concentrated on a difficult shot. In a you-blinked, you-missed-it moment, with one smooth, barely perceptible movement of her cue stick, the SAMCRO Queen sent the balls spiraling over the table with a loud crack. Fawn joined the onlookers in applauding the shot that sunk the remaining balls, thus ending the game for a clearly shocked Chibs, who hadn't been expecting to lose again so quickly.

Fawn's clapping drew the attention of Clay Morrow as he stood nearby watching his protégé hustle his brothers out of some cold hard cash. As her eyes met those of the former SAMCRO President, Fawn couldn't help but shiver just a little.

With Tina's arrival in Charming, Fawn had fallen out of favor with the older biker, which had sorely disappointed her. She had liked Clay and had thought that the feeling was mutual. That is, until she heard that he blamed her for the pain Tina's presence in town had caused his daughter. Fawn had been somewhat devastated to learn that Clay had gone so far as to advise Opie to rethink being in a relationship with her.

Even though Tina had eventually made peace with Jolene and had been accepted into the extended family that was SAMCRO, Fawn continued to do what she could to avoid being around the outlaw biker, even though she and Gemma had managed to mend fences and were on speaking terms once again.

Thinking that now was the time to beat a hasty retreat to her old man's dorm, Fawn's eyes widened as Clay handed his pool cue to Bobby and made a beeline in her direction.

Tina, who had been standing to Fawn's left also watching the game, trembled just a little. "Oh shit," She whispered to the younger woman. "He looks about ready to throttle one or both of us."

Noting the look of determination on the man's face, Fawn was afraid that Tina might be both Tina and Ellie close to her in a death grip, Fawn straightened her back and put a neutral look on her face.

"Hey, Ellie, Tina." Clay nodded in their direction, making it a point not to address Fawn directly.

"Hey, Uncle Clay," Ellie said as she briefly pulled away from Fawn to place a kiss on the older man's cheek. "How much has Aunt Jo hustled out of you tonight?"

"Nothing yet, darling. I was patiently waiting my turn to have my ass handed to me. Why don't you and Tina do this old man a favor and help me save some face by taking over for me. I'll cover your losses." Clay offered with a friendly smile. "I wanna talk to Fawn here for a minute."

Looking at the faces of the three adults, Ellie wondered what the heck was going on. It was clear to her that Fawn wasn't looking too keen on being left alone with Clay and Ellie was about to insist on staying put when Fawn suddenly released the death grip on her arm. "You two go on ahead. I'll be fine."

Waiting until both Ellie and Tina were out of earshot, Fawn turned to Clay and looked him in the eye. "So," Fawn drawled. "Whassup?"

Extending a bear paw of a hand, Clay placed it on the small of her back and deftly escorted her to one of the tables in a far corner. "I think it's time we set some things straight between us."

Sitting down, Fawn faced the old biker. "I wasn't aware things needed straightening, especially between us." Although nervous, she was doing a good job of hiding it.

"I never would have thought that Tigger's kid was one to hide behind polite social niceties." Clay replied as he sat down, casually crossing one long leg over the other.

Fawn's temper quickly was ignited. "If you did, you'd be wrong because I'm not one to hide behind shit."

"Neither am I." He replied sharply. "I _always_ say what I mean, never taking feelings into account until the words are out of my mouth, but my intention is never to hurt anyone, _especially_ members of my family."

_Family? Where is he going with this?_

"This thing with Tina—"

"What about it?" Fawn said in a dark, uncompromising tone, almost daring him to say something disparaging about her friend.

"It wasn't exactly easy for the family." Clay continued as he if hadn't heard her.

"I get that. It wasn't easy for _anyone_ involved, including Tina."

"Yeah, Yeah," Clay waved Fawn's point away as insignificant to what he had to say. "But getting hit in the face with all that dead history shit . . . well, it brought up a lot of bad feelings." He paused. "And I know you unjustly suffered the brunt of that anger. That is, my anger." Fawn's eyes widened softly as he continued. "I don't make it a habit of apologizing for the shit I do, so I'm hoping you're catching my drift, little girl."

Fawn nodded slowly as her eyes met his. "I think I do."

"Good, just so you know." Standing up, Clay headed back to the pool table and his daughter, but not before giving Fawn's shoulder a soft gentle squeeze.

* * *

Trying to keep herself occupied while waiting for Opie to show up, Fawn dragged Jolene away from the pool table and over to the couches to sit and talk with Tina. It was a little strange, the three women talking together, but Fawn had managed to keep the conversation going using the salon as a topic of interest. Having just agreed to give Jolene and Gemma a personal tour of the salon the following day, Jolene nudged Fawn's arm and pointed to the Chapel doors.

As the Chapel doors opened, Fawn felt her tense shoulders finally relax as her father, the SAMCRO President and her old man exited. She grinned as she saw Opie's green eyes quickly surveying the room before he spotted her sitting on the couch with Jolene and Tina. Throwing her a quick wink, Opie smiled as he made his way over to her. Fawn found herself huffing under her breath, however, as one patch after another intercepted her old man for a chat.

Fawn was about to go over and demand some attention when Jolene reached out and patted her on the knee. "Down, girl. He'll be over here in a minute."

"So, it's that obvious that I'm dying to jump his bones?" Fawn smiled sheepishly.

"Uh, yeah." Jolene shot back. "What is it with you tonight? I'm getting an edgy vibe from you."

"I don't know." Fawn took a deep breath and exhaled. "Well, that's not exactly true. See, when Opie called me earlier, there was something in his voice that has me feeling like something's up. I guess I'm just a little anxious, that's all."

"Don't be." Jolene said knowingly. "You'll find out soon enough."

Fawn quickly pounced on that statement. "Heifer, you know something you're not telling me. What the fuck is it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Jolene said, feigning innocence.

"Why don't I believe you?" Fawn gave her friend the evil eye.

"Probably because you're a smart chick," Opie replied, having taken Fawn completely unawares. Reaching down, he pulled her up so fast from the couch that she cut loose with a little squeal. "Come with me."

Fawn's heart gave a little jump in her chest when she heard the four words that a woman rarely, _if ever_ , hears coming from her man.

"We need to talk."

* * *

Sitting on the edge of Opie's bed, Fawn looked up at the outlaw biker looming above her with questioning eyes. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, Opie Winston looked more than just a little intimidating.

_Please don't let this be about Ellie and Tiki. Please, please, please!_

_You need to calm the fuck down,_ inner-Fawn advised. _Jolene knows exactly what's going on and she wouldn't let you just walk your ass in here to face a pissed off biker without a warning._

Taking a moment to consider that point, Fawn felt her rapidly beating heart slow down a bit. Folding her hands in her lap, she gave her old man a tentative smile. "So . . . what do you want to talk about?"

Taking a good look at his woman, Opie quickly realized that he practically had her up against the ropes wondering what the hell was going on. Sinking to rest on his haunches, he was now eye-to-eye with Fawn.

"Sorry, babe. I guess I have you a little rattled, huh?"

"I'm not rattled," Fawn denied hotly with a shake of her head. Noting his raised eyebrow, she shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe a just little. The plan was for you to cut hanging out at the Clubhouse short tonight so I could give you a personal tour of the salon. I was gonna make sure the tour ended upstairs so we could christen the big ass hydrotherapy tub together."

"No shit?" Opie said softly with a sexy grin. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, but then you call and tell me to haul ass over here before dropping the 'we need to talk' line on me, so pardon the hell out of me if my head is spinning. I've had a lot of surprises today, including a talk with Clay." She replied and winced as Opie's handsome face tightened into a scowl.

 _Damn you and that fuckin' foot-in-mouth disease!_ Inner-Fawn chastised.

"He didn't get out line with you again, did he?" Opie asked, his tone dangerously quiet. "I thought I had that shit handled."

"You do, baby. Everything's good, believe it or not. He kinda, sorta apologized to me."

"Kinda, sorta?"

"Yeah, it was the unspoken kind of apology. More like an understanding. He said," Fawn cleared her throat as her voice cracked a little. "That sometimes he hurts his family even though he doesn't mean to. He said it like _I_ was his family, too. I think we're cool, really." She pressed as Opie looked at her carefully and then nodded, a small smile on his face.

Opie was glad that his brother had reached out to Fawn, especially tonight. Now that he was going to ask the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life with him, Fawn needed to know that she had the full and complete acceptance from all of his brothers in SAMCRO's inner circle.

"So, what's going on, Redwood?" Fawn reached up and gently caressed his beard with both hands. "I'm on pins and needles here."

_Please don't let it be about Ellie and Tiki!_

Opie cleared his suddenly dry throat. "It has to do with this." Rolling up the sleeve of his white t-shirt, Opie bared his upper arm so Fawn could see the large tattoo it bore. The tat depicted a dark-haired woman wearing nothing but a small G-string. Kneeling with her back exposed, the woman was coyly looking over her shoulder. Done in tones of gray and black, "Donna" was inscribed underneath it in a fancy cursive. It was just one of the many tattoos Opie had. Fawn recalled the first time she had seen most of them magnificently displayed on his bare torso on the lot months ago and how she had nearly drooled into her shoes at the sight.

"I love that tat, baby. I love all your tats." Fawn caressed this bulging deltoid muscle decorated with the tattoo of his late wife.

Opie cleared his throat again. "I have a lot of ink on my body, almost all of it dedicated to the Club that I have dedicated my life to. This one was special because until I met Donna, I thought the Club was all I would ever have time for in my life. After I lost her, I never thought I'd ever meet another woman that I would love so deeply and so strongly that I would want to make a permanent connection again—until now." His green eyes were locked on Fawn's wide and glistening ones. "I have a lot of tats, babe, but I still have room for one more."

"You do?" Fawn whispered, her eyes suddenly overflowing with tears as the implications of his statement became clear.

Opie nodded solemnly. "I want—no—I need to make it clear to everyone in this Clubhouse, to every person I see as I walk down the street, just how much I love and adore you, Fawn Marie Trager. If someone had told me after Donna died that I would find love again in the form of a fiery, crazy, stubborn, mean-tempered—"

"Hey!" Fawn said indignantly.

"Sexy, voluptuous, caring, loving woman, I would have shot them in the ass." Opie smiled. "But then you came along with that damn pony you call a dog and my life hasn't been the same since. You showed me that I'm capable of loving again with my whole heart and my heart belongs to you, babe. I'm an outlaw, and not a particularly charming one—"

"You are to me," Fawn said firmly, with a joyous light shining in her eyes.

"Fawn baby, I want to spend the rest of my life loving you." Opie said as he reached into his kutte. Fawn suddenly froze like a deer caught in the headlights as he pulled out . . . two sheets of paper.

Fawn let out a sudden rush of breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Whoa, that was a close call."

"Huh?" Opie quirked an eyebrow.

Fawn took a deep breath. "For a minute, I thought you were pulling out a little box with something round inside. I don't know if my heart could take that shit just yet."

"Don't worry, Big Red," Opie grinned. "I know my woman too well to just go popping shit like that on ya." _However, it's definitely on my agenda. I'm just gonna have to gently nudge you in that direction._

Unfolding the sheets of stiff white paper, the biker handed her the first one. Taking it with a trembling hand, Fawn almost passed out for the second time that night.

It was a sketch of her name, artfully rendered in a way she had never seen before. The artist, apparently an extremely talented one, had drawn her name in an extremely intricate and elaborate form using vines. It had been designed to compliment the vines and roses that decorated and wrapped around her torso. Done in beautiful shades of green, brown, and black, it also had a large red rose that matched the one that sat at the base of her throat.

"Oh, Ope," Fawn sighed as she lovingly traced what was obviously intended to be a tattoo with the tip of her fingernail. "It's beautiful."

"I considered doing something similar to Donna's, but I don't want anyone but me seeing that beautiful body of yours like that ever again." He said with a spark of fire in his eyes, forcing Fawn to flash him a tiny smile. "I also thought about putting it on my chest, right over my heart, but it'd be a shame to keep something that beautiful covered up all the time, so it's going here," Opie pointed to the empty space on his right forearm. "What are you thinkin', babe? Like it?"

Fawn reached up to fiercely wrap her arms around his neck. "I fuckin' love it!" She exclaimed, pulling him into a brutal mix of lips, teeth and tongues as she kissed him within an inch of his life. Pulling away, Fawn swiped at her tears as she grinned. "I love you so much, Ope. Earlier today, as I was walking through the finished salon, I didn't think my life could get any better, but this is fuckin' EPIC!"

"We're on the way to epic, Big Red, but we're not quite there yet. At least not until you tell me that you'll wear this for me." Handing her the second sketch, Opie's grin was a mile wide as Fawn snatched the paper out of his hand.

Fawn gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth. In italicized letters, "Property of" rested directly above "Opie Winston", which was drawn in a large old world-style cursive. Underneath there was a small crow in tones of gray and black with vivid green human eyes, just like her old man's.

"You like it?"

Fawn nodded. "It's beautiful." She whispered hoarsely.

"I want you to know, Fawn, that I loved Donna with all my heart, but I never crowed her. I want you to wear my crow because as much as I know that she loved me, I know that you love _all of me_. And that means the fuckin' world to me, baby."

Looking into his expressive eyes and hearing him say what a special honor it was for him to have her wear his crow, Fawn knew that he had just given her his heart. It had taken her a long time to find a man worth loving like she did Opie Winston and now that she had him—

_I'm never, ever letting go._

"So when are we doing this, Redwood?" Fawn smiled, wiping the rest of her tears away with the heal of her hand.

Opie grinned. "How about right now?"

* * *

Sitting on the couch in her old man's protective embrace, Jolene tugged on the t-shirt Jax wore under his kutte as she nudged her head in the direction of the dorms. Following her eyes, Jax smiled as he spotted Opie and Fawn practically wrapped in each other's arms as Opie led them into the Main Room.

"Looks like it's a done deal, darlin'." Jax leaned into his wife and placed a kiss in the sensitive area between her ear and throat.

"Yup! C'mon, Jackson!" Jolene jumped up from the couch and dragged her old man with her across the room.

Seeing his best friends approach, Opie released his old lady into the waiting arms of Jolene, who wrapped Fawn in a tight hug. "So you're really gonna let Sasquatch tat you up, gurl?"

"You bet she is!" Opie exclaimed as he threw Fawn a wink.

"Yeah, and I can't believe you knew and didn't tell me shit!" Fawn complained.

"It wasn't my place," Jolene said with false-subservience as Opie eyed her suspiciously. "Besides, I only found out about it ten minutes before you showed up." She whispered in Fawn's ear.

The SAMCRO Queen was suddenly and unceremoniously pushed out of the way as Fawn was bum rushed by both Ellie and Kenny.

"You might want to re-think this HUGE mistake you're making," Kenny winked at Fawn as he released her from his bear hug. "There's still time for you to hook up with the younger Winston model. All you gotta do is say the word."

"Shut up, idiot!" Ellie slapped the back of her twin's head and pushed him out of the way. "Why would Fawn settle for a cheap knock-off when she can have the original." Ellie exclaimed before throwing her arms around Fawn.

Meanwhile, having pushed aside Big Otto, the SAMCRO President now had his arms wrapped around his best friend in back-slapping bro-hug. "So, she didn't fight ya on the 'Property of' part of the tat, huh?" Jax asked and Opie shook his head with a big grin. "Good shit! Now, don't make the mistake I did. Put that shit where it can be seen, bro. It'll save ya a lot of headaches."

"I heard that!" Jolene pulled on a strand of Jax's long, blonde hair before he swooped her into his arms.

"I'm happy for you, brother." Jax slapped his best friend on the back again. "I was starting to think you were gonna let her get away."

"No way, man. I worked too hard on making that woman love me. There was no way I was letting her get away from me now." Opie laughed.

Suddenly, a voice boomed out from the crowd. "What's this I'm hearing about you making shit official with my kid?"

Opie looked over his shoulder to see Tig standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face and an anxious Tina standing beside him.

"Dad!" Fawn moaned. "Don't—"

"Hush there, Fawnzy. This is between me and my brother right now, a'ight?" Tig replied tersely.

The excitement and raucousness quickly died down. Shushing Fawn's fears by placing a kiss on her hand, Opie slowly walked over to face her seemingly pissed off father.

Jolene looked from the standoff between Opie and Tig to her old man standing at her side with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Jax!" She said through a clenched jaw. "Shouldn't you say something?"

Jax pursed his lips and gave his head a quick shake. "Ope's got shit covered." Giving him one last confused look, Jolene turned her attention back to the two men staring each other down.

"Seems you heard right." The SAMCRO VP acknowledged tightly.

Tig chuckled sarcastically. "Told ya what I was gonna do to ya if you hooked up with my kid."

Opie looked his brother dead in the eye. "Go ahead. Do it."

Suddenly and without warning, the two men threw their arms around each other in a crushing embrace. Fawn let out a startled squeak, but quickly realized that if Tig and Opie were angry enough to pound each other into dust, they sure had a funny-looking fighting technique. With her heart in her throat, if finally dawned on her that they had been pulling her leg.

"Assholes!" Fawn exclaimed, stomping her booted-foot on the floor as the entire Clubhouse exploded with laughter and cheers.

"For chrissakes, Jax!" Jolene swatted her husband's arm away as he tried to pull her into a hug. "You knew and here I was trying to think up ways to get bloodstains off the pool table."

"I'm sorry, babe." Jax laughed, finally managing to grab hold of his wife. "The three of us had a long talk in the Chapel before Fawn arrived. Ope wanted to make sure he and Tig were on the same page before starting his life over with Fawn. It's amazing how the right woman can heal a rift between two brothers."

"If anybody can take great care of my kid, it's you, Ope." Tig said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Don't prove me wrong or I'm gonna have to kill ya."

As the two men finally broke apart, Tig found himself with an armful of red hair. "Thanks, Dad." Fawn wrapped her arms around her father's neck.

Giving his daughter a little squeeze, he whispered, "Hey, just do me proud, Fawnzy and treat his ass right." Quickly manning up, and without preamble, Tig pushed his daughter away. He needed to cut it out with the mushy shit. After all, he had a reputation to protect. "Where the fuck's Hap so we can get this show on the road?"

"I'm right here, bro." Came the gravelly voice as the sea of people parted to reveal Happy as he carried his supplies. Ordering the nearest Prospect to clear off one of the tables, Happy quickly set up his workspace as Opie and Fawn watched.

"So who's my first victim?" Happy asked as he clapped and rubbed his gloved hands together.

"That would be Fawn," Opie replied. "The sooner I get her crowed the better."

Finding herself suddenly tossed into a chair by her old man, Fawn beamed a 1000-watt smile at at the bald-headed biker. "Ready when you are."

Having been briefed earlier by Opie that Fawn wouldn't partake of any liquor for courage, Happy nodded—and probably smiled as well. Fawn couldn't really tell.

"Let's get to work."

Taking a seat next to her as he held onto her free hand, Opie watched as Fawn Trager became an official member of the SAMCRO family.


	30. If Ever You're In my Arms Again

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Tina Giamatti turned the volume up on her car's radio as one of her favorite songs started playing. It was a particularly fine fall afternoon and she was in a _very_ good mood.

 _That's what you get when you wake up with a hot biker in your bed_ , Tina grinned to herself, moving her shoulders to the beat of the music as she drove down Main Street.

The SAA had been making himself quite at home at her place as of late, stopping by to see her several times a week, sometimes for dinner or a movie, but always ending up in some clever, and not necessarily horizontal, position somewhere in her house. Of course, last night hadn't been any different. After making Tig a home-cooked meal, the two of them had spent some time on the couch messing around. Apparently, Tig felt that the time was right to introduce Tina to just one of his many favorite vices and had come prepared with a couple of porn DVDs, which Tina was only slightly dubious about watching. It wasn't long before "inspiration" struck and they got busy with their own fun and games as the movie played in the background.

In the morning, after they had fallen out of the bed to take a communal shower, Tina had made Tig a hearty breakfast and to show his appreciation he had given her a hot and thorough kiss good-bye. Already a couple of hours late for his shift at T-M, Tig slapped her soundly on the ass before heading outside, mounting his ride and taking off. Tina, however, wasn't expected at the salon until noon and had taken her time getting ready before hopping into her car. She figured that it would probably be a pretty light and easy day spent catching up on paperwork.

How wrong she had been.

Tina had just pulled into an open parking space in front of the salon when she suddenly snatched her designer sunglasses off her face and tossed them in the passenger seat next to her. Peering into the rear view mirror with her vivid green eyes narrowed into suspicious slits, she disdainfully noted an all-too-familiar black pick-up truck parking up the block at the corner.

"You have got to be shitting me!" Tina muttered angrily under her breath as she watched Max Ryder cockily striding down the sidewalk. "After being MIA for five weeks, that prick sure has a lot of balls showing his face around here again."

The last time Max had shown up in Charming, he had swooped in with testosterone-filled guns blazing, hoping to literally sweep Fawn off her feet. The same Fawn that, after she had ended their five-year relationship, he had not bothered to keep in contact with for well over a year. The dumb ass couldn't understand why his former girlfriend hadn't fallen all over herself to jump into his arms and show him a proper welcome home! The fact that Fawn was not interested in reconciling with him did not register and had to be driven home by a pair of strong bear-sized fists. It had taken Opie Winston knocking his ass into the middle of next week to clue Max into the reality that there was a new man in Fawn's life.

Having had a ringside seat to the two men as they tore up the shop, Fawn later told Tina how, after their fight, the two he-men had gone to a bar to have a little "talk" about the object of their affections. Each had basically agreed to give the other the leeway to pursue Fawn in a "let-the-best-man-win" sort of contest, if you will.

But Max had never gone up against an opponent like Opie Winston, who was nothing like the men in Fawn's past during her on-again/off-again relationship with Max. Unlike those men that Max had managed to chase away with an obligatory ass-whooping and a consolation beer, Opie was made of much stronger stuff. He had absolutely no intention of giving Fawn up without a fight. Unfortunately for Max, after getting the full story of their so-called relationship straight from Fawn, Opie decided that the best way to win the heart of the woman he loved once and for all was NOT to do the one thing Max always did, which was take her for granted.

On the other hand, Max thought it would work to his benefit to give Fawn room to think about their relationship while he took off yet again to take care of business. What he failed to realize was that Fawn had spent the better part of a year doing just that. After meeting and falling in love with Opie, she realized she had made the right decision in breaking up with Max. Instead of settling for what little Max had leftover to give her after he was done touring the world for work, Opie had proven to Fawn that she deserved his unconditional love. First, Opie had stuck by Fawn when Tina's identity as Jolene's mother had come to light, in spite of the love he had for the SAMCRO Queen. Then, he made it a point of dedicating every waking moment not spent on the Club or his kids to his Big Red. The SAMCRO VP had gone so far as to plan their first vacation run together—a surprise getaway Fawn was still raving over. In stark contrast, Fawn had lost count of the five-year's worth of cancelled dates and postponed plans for vacations that never happened while Max chased after or took on a new job.

More importantly, however, Opie had committed himself heart, body and soul to Fawn by not only asking her to be his old lady and wear his crow, but by having her name tattooed on his arm to mark his own permanent proclamation of his love for her.

Tina had never seen Fawn so happy as she was with the outlaw biker. It was the first time that she could remember since first meeting the fiery and brash stylist that any man had made the kind of positive impact on her young friend that the SAMCRO VP had. Their relationship was far from perfect and definitely not all unicorns and rainbows, but the crazy and fierce love they had for each other was clear to anyone that saw them together.

That is, except for the big brawny man heading in her direction as he swaggered down the street.

Squaring her shoulders, Tina quickly jumped out of her car and headed towards the obstinate young man in hopes of giving her friend a hand. Maybe she could be the voice of reason that sent Max Ryder packing, back to wherever the fuck he had disappeared to five weeks ago.

This time for good.

* * *

"Well shit!" Max breathed as he ran a hand through his shoulder length hair in what was undoubtedly amazement. "Am I on the right fuckin' block?" He said out loud as he looked up at the completely unrecognizable building that had seemingly been transformed overnight.

"Oh, you're on the right street, all right," Tina said casually as she approached the tall man from behind. "But for the life of me, I simply can't figure out why."

With his back to the feminine voice that had just addressed him, Max allowed himself an annoyed eye roll before he fixed a pleasant expression on his face and turned around. Sure enough, Tina Giamatti—his girl's bestie—was standing at attention. Wearing a cropped black leather jacket over a figure-hugging V-neck cashmere sweater and boot-cut slacks, Tina's hair was loose and dancing in the breeze around her shoulders. The expression on her face, much like the voice that had greeted him, was evidence that the older woman was not at all pleased to see him.

"Tina, looking as lovely and stylish as ever, I see." He smiled engagingly at her.

"Max," She replied dryly. "Just as full of shit as ever, I see." She grinned at his disconcerted look. Tina had no delusions as to where she stood with Max Ryder. The young man resented the close relationship she and Fawn shared, believing that Tina held undue sway over the young woman. His dislike for Tina only intensified after Fawn dumped him, convinced that the older woman had influenced her to do so.

"Tina, Tina, I thought we were friends." Max lied. "Why so bitchy? I know you're too old to be on the rag, so that's not it." He grinned wickedly as he saw Tina's left eye twitch. "Must be the lack of boy toys around to lay that pipe just right for you, huh?"

"I appreciate the concern, Max, but unlike _someone_ I could name, _my_ love life is quite fine. Actually, it's amazingly wonderful and he's certainly no _boy_." Tina replied in a cloyingly saccharine voice.

"Then what's up with all of this angst and attitude I'm detecting from you? It looks like a lot has really changed around here," He waved as he indicated the building behind him. "I would think you'd be happy."

"Oh yes, indeed. A lot _has_ changed around here and I'm simply orgasmic with joy," Tina said adroitly. "Fawn has really made something of this place. A very _permanent_ place."

 _I hate to admit it, but looks like the bitch is right_ , Max thought a little disagreeably.

To say that the pumped up and stylish building was a shock to his system would have been an understatement. If the outside alone looked this good, Max dreaded to imagine what the inside had been transformed into. Fawn did have a brilliant mind for aesthetics and he should have known that if she had brought into the kitschy, hole-in-the-wall dump it was only because she already had a vision in mind for the location. Max was quickly coming to the sick realization that he may have a serious problem on his hands.

It was becoming clear to Max that he had once again made the mistake of leaving his woman alone for too long. However, he felt that he had a good reason as he had been hard at work setting up for his next job, a gig that he had worked out specifically with Fawn in mind. But after seeing the fruit of Fawn's business savvy, Max was starting to dread that maybe all of his planning for their future had been in vain.

"Look," Max said quietly. "I would really love to continue this conversation, but I'm here to see Fawn. I have some fantastic news that I want to share with her."

"Really?" Tina replied as she crossed her arms and sauntered towards him and turned on her heel, which put her in the perfect position to block his entry into the salon. "And what news might that be?"

"News that's for Fawn's ears only, Tina. For once, I'd appreciate it if you kept your mind on your own business and butt out. Now, if you'll move out of my way, I want to go in and tell her." Max persisted as he tried edging around her.

"Nuh-uh, Fly Boy. Not so fast." Tina held up a hand. "I don't know if you remember who you're talking to, but Fawn Trager _is_ my business and my butt is staying right where it is. But if you insist on going inside, there's something you should know."

Crossing his arms, he looked down on the petite woman. "Okay, I'll bite, but my patience is wearing real thin." He said brusquely.

Tina smirked. "Well, for one, asshole, Fawn has a man—" She started, but was rudely interrupted.

"If you're talking about the ex-con biker, you must be outta your fuckin' mind." Max replied bitterly. "I don't think that guy qualifies."

"Really? Well, in this case, I'm afraid, your opinion doesn't count for shit." She retorted angrily, but put a brake on her runaway mouth and sighed. There had been a time, long, long ago, when Tina thought that Max could be the one for Fawn. She had genuinely liked him and, for a time, he had made Fawn happy. It was for that reason alone that Tina decided to take pity on the cluelessly self-centered fool.

"Look, Max, once upon a time, you and Fawn had something. I could see it, so could she. But you," Tina stabbed him gently in his chest with an index finger. "Didn't. You didn't want the responsibility of a grown-up relationship. You wanted to come and go as you pleased and expected Fawn to wait around for you and for a while, that's what she did. But she got tired of waiting and when you took off for that year-long gig, Fawn knew she couldn't do it anymore. She was done and she moved on. She has finally found a family and a man who love her. With the new salon, she now has everything she needs to live a happy life. If you truly care about her, and I know it hurts if you do, just leave her be. The only way this is going to end well between the two of you is if you get back in your truck and drive away because if you walk through those doors, I can guarantee you won't like what she has to say. Fawn has a good heart and I know she cares enough about you not to want to hurt you that way." Without saying good-bye, Tina turned around, opened the door to the salon and walked inside.

Standing alone on the sidewalk, Max contemplated Tina's quiet and careful delivery, making his stomach clench into a ball and the hairs on his back of his neck stand on end.

 _Quitters never fuckin'_ _win_ , Max thought with no little regret. _And there's only one way to know for sure how this will end. I_ _need_ _to know if I've truly fucked up my one chance at true happiness_.

Armed with a steely determination to win this round against Opie Winston, Max opened the door to the salon and stepped inside.

* * *

Max couldn't believe his eyes.

Begrudgingly, he had to admit to himself that the salon was beautiful. _Just like Fawn_ , he thought with a little sadness. Completely elegant and stylish, comfortable and inviting, the salon looked nothing like the nauseating pink nightmare Max had happily done his part to destroy during his fight with the giant SAMCRO VP.

It was the type of establishment that no one who loved the beauty business as much as Fawn did would willingly give up and leave.

"Long time no see, stranger."

Turning his head towards the right, he watched as the love of his life sauntered quietly towards him. He barely paid attention to Tina as she stood off to the side with unconcealed concern plastered all over her face. Instead, Max was totally focused on Fawn.

She looked beautiful and radiant. Her pretty face, a mask of composure and control, betrayed nothing, not even surprise to find him standing in her salon in Charming unannounced. With her flaming red hair a loose mass of waves flowing over her shoulders and down her back, she was wearing a lightweight pumpkin-colored turtleneck sweater over a pair of black jeans and ankle boots.

 _She looks better than ever_ , Max smiled to himself.

"Hey, darlin'." He replied jovially as he walked towards her. Coming within arms length of her, Max was about to throw his open arms around her for a hug, but stopped short when she extended her hand instead. Flashing her a crooked grin, he shook her hand before placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "That sure ain't the welcome I'm used to getting, She-devil."

"Yeah, but it's the only kind you're going to get from me, Max." Fawn replied quietly with a slight shake of her head.

_Damn, just when I thought he had gotten the message._

_Yeah, right_ , inner-Fawn smirked. _So now whadaya gonna do?_

 _Good question_ , Fawn sighed softly.

In some ways, Fawn had been grateful that Max had turned up in Charming when he did. That unexpected blast from the past had forced her to confront the feelings she had developed for Opie and which had scared the shit out of her. Finally confessing that what they felt for each other was love, the weeks that had followed had been wonderful. Spending as much time together as possible, once Opie opened up to Fawn about Donna during their trip to Crescent City, it became clear to both of them that they were in it for the long haul. As the weeks passed and Fawn became Opie's official old lady, she had fooled herself into thinking that Max had come to his senses and was going to stay away.

Apparently, she had been as delusional as her ex.

The brutal pounding her Redwood had laid on Max his last time around would be nothing compared to what Opie would do to him now that she was his old lady. More for his sake than her own, Fawn was determined to get rid of Max once and for all by explaining just how lucky he had been that Opie had shown some restraint. All bets were off, however, should her old man find out he was back. But before Fawn could make that point clear, she suddenly found herself being swung around in the air again. This time, to her great relief, she managed to avoid the kiss aimed in her direction by slapping her hand over Max's mouth.

"Put me down, Max." She ordered. Her tone was anything but warm and inviting.

Max did as she requested and her booted feet hit the marble floor with a sharp click, but he refused to step out of her personal space. Instead, he rested his large hands on the base of her hips. "I've really missed you, babe." He said, his eyes darting longingly over her full lips.

"Really?" Fawn cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. "I never would have guessed since I haven't heard from you in _weeks_. I figured you taken off on the road again."

"I told you, Fawn. I had some really important shit to work out. Now that it's all set, I came straight away so I could share the good news." Max explained, his sudden exuberance surprising Fawn.

_He only ever gets this excited when he's going on tour. Yay!_

"So whassup?"

"I've got the mother of all gigs lined up, She-devil." Max grinned at her. "You won't believe whose tour I'm managing."

"Whose?"

As Max dropped the name of an extremely popular British rock band—that just so happened to be Fawn's ultimate favorite—he could see a flash of the old Fawn he knew in her beautiful ocean blue eyes.

For a brief moment, Fawn forgot all about the anger she felt towards her former lover. "Shit, Max! That's fuckin' awesome! You lucky pig. I'm so happy for you." Fawn genuinely enthused. "You know I've seen them—"

"Fifteen times in concert?" Max grinned. "Yeah, I know, baby. I was the one driving as we followed them around the country, remember?" He had fond and vivid memories of that crazy summer with Fawn. She had been a pretty bad ass wild child back then.

"You must be proud. I'm sure that's a hard gig to land." She replied.

"For anyone but me. Their management knows I'm the best." He boasted.

Fawn rolled her eyes. Max's ego knew no bounds when it came to _a lot_ of things, his work being first and foremost. She couldn't take that away from him, though, because he was one of the best in the business. "So how big is the tour?"

"Huge. Twenty-five major cities, fifty-five shows all over the world, from Bangkok to Mozambique and everywhere in between. Five months of rocking out and partying hearty."

Fawn gave him a wry smile. "So when do you leave?" _The sooner the better please_ , she thought.

"In two weeks, but I'm not going alone, babe." He said quietly.

For a moment, Fawn didn't catch the meaning of his words. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she looked into his knowing ice blue ones. "You're not seriously—" Fawn started.

"Oh, but I am. I told you, Fawn," Max replied. "I love you and I'm ready to commit to us and what better way to do that than for you to go on tour with me and we do this shit together."

 _Holy shit, don't tell me he's on drugs now too._ "Max, you're not listening—"

"Babe, this is a big fuckin' deal and not just for me, but for you, too. The band's putting on quite a show this time around. With several opening acts joining them on the road, there will be extras and back-up dancers involved and they all have hair, babe!" Max pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "The wardrobe department needs someone to lead a small army of make-up and hair people and I told them all about you. I told their management about your time at _Flip It_ and all the hair shows that you've worked and produced and they were seriously impressed. You'd have to meet with them of course, but it's just a formality. The job's as good as yours on my word alone. This would be the perfect way of making things permanent between us, baby. Think about it. We could put a ring on it in some exotic locale, like Bali or maybe even Bora Bora." Max enthused, waxing on about other possible locations for them to tie the knot.

Standing in his arms, her own arms loosely at her side, Fawn wondered what fuckin' universe had she just been teleported to.

_After six years of bullshit excuses, unwilling to commit his ass to being there for me, he thinks he can just micromanage my life to suit his like I'm some fuckin' Barbie doll?!_

Fawn felt her anger growing, her eyes were sparkling dangerously as her breathing quickened. With her nostrils flared, Fawn's chest was rising and falling rapidly as she contemplated the man in front of her, so selfishly consumed by his own plans and desires that he didn't even realize how pissed she was.

Not counting getting clean and staying sober, Max was standing inside what was probably Fawn's greatest accomplishment thus far and he couldn't be bothered to throw a "Hey, the place looks fab" in her direction to simply acknowledge her hard work. If it had nothing to do with Max Ryder, he never gave a damn about any of her achievements. All he ever really cared about was having the hottest girlfriend in the room whenever they had gone to after-parties or nightclubs.

 _What a difference loving the right man makes_ , Fawn said to herself as she thought of her old man.

As the scary, bald-headed patch Happy had worked on her tattoo, in spite of the pain, Fawn had been in a near state of euphoria. No high she had ever experienced from any combination of drugs or alcohol had ever made her feel as amazingly happy as she had on the night her old man had officially made her a part of his dysfunctional SAMCRO family.

After hours under the needle, Opie had taken her to the newly-finished salon for his private tour as promised. Fawn's heart had nearly exploded in her chest as Opie looked around with pride clearly making his soulful green eyes shine. She had rattled on and on about every aspect of the rebuild and remodel as she pointed out the reception area, the floors, and the work stations. Absorbing every word Fawn had spoken, no matter how minute the details, he never lost interest.

Fawn could tell that he had been genuinely impressed and was just as proud of her accomplishments as she was. As irked as he had been about Fawn refusing his or the Club's help along the way, Opie knew that this was something she wanted and needed to do for herself. He had made it clear, however, that going forward, they would share each other's burdens and that she could always trust having him there when she needed him and even when she didn't. Thinking about that night even now brought tears to her eyes. Aside from Tina, Opie was her biggest cheerleader and supporter.

Determined to finally put an end to this pitiful attachment Max had to her once and for all, Fawn waited until he had finally run out of things to say. Pulling herself out of his grasp, Fawn turned away, giving Max the impression that she was seriously considering all he had just offered her. Max had been so enthralled with all of his plans for their future that he hadn't noticed that the love of his life had barely been paying attention.

Fawn, however, now had his undivided attention as he froze and watched her slowly pull the sleeve of her turtleneck up to reveal her upper left arm. Reaching out with a large and unsteady hand, his stormy eyes never leaving hers, Max's fingers traced the large tattoo—the name of his rival—done in shades of gray and black and, adding insult to injury, "Property of" written in italicized script right above it.

"Bullshit!" He bellowed angrily.

"No, Max." Fawn replied softly but with conviction. "This is my life now, here in Charming with Opie. I love him and he loves me."

"Baby," Max was shaking his head as he tugged her sleeve down to cover up the offending mark another man had branded on _his_ woman. "I don't know what kind of dreams this biker has been filling your head with—"

"He's been filling my head with love, you asshole! With constancy, affection, family, commitment. You know, all of the same things I wanted from you once upon a time, but never got." Fawn retorted. "I had hoped, as the weeks passed, that you had finally realized there was no point in you coming back here. We had a lot of good times together and I will always care for you, Max, but it's over between us and has been for a very, very long time. You know this as well as I do."

"What I know," Max spit out angrily. "Is that if it wasn't for some scumbag biker, you would have left Bumblefuck, USA months ago and returned to Seattle where you belong! _With me!_ "

"Maybe, maybe not. The point is we'll never know, Max." Fawn replied candidly. "And there's nothing you can do about it now."

"Think again, babe." Max growled. Viciously grabbing Fawn by the arm, he yanked her to him and pressed a furious and demanding kiss on her mouth. Giving her bottom lip a hard nip, Max flung her back, forcing Fawn to fall against the reception counter before storming out the front door.

"Ow, shit!" Fawn exclaimed angrily, her left shoulder on fire from the impact against the counter, as she swiped at her mouth. Suddenly, the color drained from her face at the sight of blood on her hand.

"Oh my God, Fawn! Are you all right?" Tina dashed over to her friend. Seeing the side of Fawn's mouth covered in smeared blood, Tina uttered some choice expletives as she angrily grabbed some Kleenex out of a box sitting on top of the reception desk. "Christ, Fawn! What did that asshole do to you?"

"He bit me." Fawn replied, somewhat shocked. It was probably nothing much more than a cut on the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, but it was enough to leave Fawn a little shaken. Tina quickly picked up on her rattled nerves and guided her to a chair in reception. "He's never done anything to intentionally hurt me before." _Not even when I_ _wanted_ _him to be a little rough with me_ , she thought to herself as she sat down.

"That fucker manhandled you pretty hard." Tina said as grabbed a few more tissues, which she handed to Fawn before sitting next to her. With a finger on her chin, Tina tilted Fawn's head back to get a better look and shook her head in disgust. "Oh boy, with your lip already swelling, I would sure as shit hate being Max Ryder if Opie ever got a hold of him."

A warning bell suddenly went off in Fawn's head. "Ohmigod, Tina!" Her eyes grew wide with horror. Getting up from her chair, Fawn ran behind the reception desk to grab her purse. "Get your shit! We have to lock up and get the hell outta here!"

"Why? Where are we going?" Tina asked even as she jumped up to get her bag.

Fawn ran towards to the front door. "To keep my old man from going to fuckin' prison!"

* * *

The day had started out chilly and had not warmed up all that much by lunch time. It had been a pretty busy morning on the T-M lot. With the garage doing brisk business as customers prepared their vehicles for the colder weather, every mechanic employed by Teller-Morrow, including several Club members, had been called in to work. Every bay as well as several available spots in front of the garage were occupied as they tried to keep up with the steady volume of cages coming in for repair or inspection. With croweaters, sweetbutts, and hang-arounds also crowding the lot, Gemma had sent a couple of Club women out to the garage to get lunch orders from her boys, while others doled out drinks to the patches too busy to take a break.

Breaking the seal on his bottle of water and gulping down half its contents, the SAMCRO VP was oblivious to the fact that he would soon have taking out the trash added to the list of duties keeping him from joining his old lady for lunch.

In spite of the hard work, however, the mood among the mechanics was upbeat as they good-naturedly busted each other's asses, cracking wise and shooting the breeze. As usual, just moments before all hell broke loose on the lot, Juice was getting more than his fair share of shit hurled in his direction.

"You guys need to get the fuck up off me," Juice said irritably. Losing his grip on the wrench he was turning under the hood of a hybrid, he ended up banging his hand against the engine, splitting a couple of knuckles. "Fucking hell! You pieces of shit are so fuckin' retarded!" He said angrily as he tried to stop the bleeding with a dirty, oily rag as his brother laughed.

"This coming from the resident idiot," Otto replied as he grabbed the rag out of Juice's hand and replaced it with a roll of paper towels he picked up from one of the work benches. "Your candy ass needs to stop bitchin' and watch what the fuck you're doing, man. This is a garage, not a beauty shop." He grinned as the howls of laughter continued.

"I told you, bro," Tig started, calling out to Jax as he pulled away from the dying Subaru he was trying to coax back to life. "I always suspected Juicy was a little light on his feet over there. That fuckin' Mohawk, man. That should have been your first warning sign."

"I'm starting to see what you mean, bro," Jax picked up the "fuck-with-Juice" ball. Slamming the hood shut on the Toyota he had just finished, the SAMCRO Prez walked over to the Club's Intelligence Officer. "I'm guessing the need to explore your, um, feminine side is a recent thing, right? Did you bang your head or something?"

"Nah, bro. Tigger's right. These _tendencies_ have always been there." Big Otto replied seriously. "I heard from Half-Sack that Juan-Carlos here has been shaving his junk since he hit puberty."

Jax flashed a startled look at Juice. "That's kinda gay, brother."

"Shut up!" Juice complained, tossing a handful of bloody paper towels at Jax before walking away.

"Personally, I don't know what's gayer. The fact that Juice shaves his junk," Big Otto continued. "Or that Half-Sack would know that shit. Either way, even though we'd probably have to patch you out, if it makes you happier, you should just get yourself one of those pink smock things and set up shop down at Fawn's salon with all the girls. You're practically over there working all the time anyway."

"Yeah, maybe Fawnzy will even dye that fuckin' Mohawk of yours to match the smock or something." Tig teased.

"The last time I checked," Juice shot back. "Doing the prep work to install a high tech security system and high end AV equipment is not a 'beauty shop thang'. It's called 'skilled labor' and I used to make a shit load of money doing that back in New York."

"Why'd you leave it?" Jax asked, doing a good job of feigning real interest. "You blow the boss one too many times and things got awkward, huh?"

Seeing Juice change colors as he went from being embarrassed to downright pissed off, Opie finally took pity on the younger patch as now it wasn't just his brothers laughing at his expense, but other mechanics and hang-arounds as well.

"Okay, assholes. Back off and cut my brother a break." Opie said good-naturedly as he reached down to grab a socket wrench from a drop cloth laid out by the pick-up he was working on. "Juice is actually doing my old lady a huge favor by taking care of this electronic shit for her. He's saving the girls a ton of money and a happy Fawn equals a very happy old man."

Juice grinned as Opie clapped him on the back. "Thanks, Ope. It's nice to know that at least one of my brothers isn't a complete dick. Wish I was down there now, actually, getting that new alarm system installed. The one they have now, a five year old with a Popsicle stick could break in."

"Then why aren't you, shithead?!" Tig said darkly as he dug into the pocket of his T-M work shirt to pull out a pack of smokes. Lighting one up, he eyed his brother.

"It hasn't arrived yet," Juice replied. "Should be here by the day after tomorrow and then me, Half-Sack, Filthy Phil and a couple of Prospects are gonna work on setting it up, along with all the audio visual shit that's coming in a few days after that. When we're done, your kid's salon is gonna be the shit of all things girly. It will totally fuckin' rock, man."

"Ya see," Chibs said as he approached the conversation with Happy. "Tha' shyte coming outta ya mouth jus now dinna sound right, brutha."

"Yeah, maybe you'll feel a little more comfortable in a little of that lip gloss shit and eyeliner instead of a kutte. I'm sure you'll pretty up real nice, too." Happy said before guzzling down a bottle of water handed to him by a blond sweetbutt.

"You've had some experience with cross-dressing, Hap?" Juice queried as he raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Sounds like you know more about that shit than you're letting on. Is there something you need to share with the Club, Big Guy?"

Juice grinned hugely as a chorus of oohs, catcalls and laughter erupted around him. He wasn't smiling for long, however.

"Nah, but how about I show you what I do have experience with, asswipe." The stone-cold killer threatened menacingly as he pulled off his work shirt and white t-shirt. His tattooed torso now exposed, the more than a dozen smiley-face tats reminded Juice just a little too late exactly why no one fucked with Happy.

Fortunately, a woman would be responsible for saving the young Puerto Rican from taking a permanent dirt nap.

The sound of screeching tires—the noise of which steadily rose as the vehicle responsible got closer—quickly drew everyone's attention. Suddenly, a large black truck roared onto the lot, its huge tires leaving skid marks as it careened towards the garage. Breaking a hard left, it spun around and came to a screeching halt, its powerful front end with a grill of chrome facing the lot's exit.

If there was one constant in the etiquette of the MC world it was that an uninvited and unexpected visitor who entered the enclave of hardcore bikers in such a manner shouldn't expect a warm welcome. As the driver's-side door flew open, a furious Max Ryder jumped out and slammed the door behind him, only to find a number of high-powered automatic handguns pointed at his head. Showing empty-headed bravado and no fear, the brawny man disregarded the armed-to-the-teeth outlaws as his eyes searched for the one man who was currently at the top of his shit list.

"Where the fuck is Opie-fuckin'-Winston?!" He yelled, the early-afternoon sun dazzling his eyes, forcing him to squint.

"Right here, douchebag." A calm voice replied and, turning to the left, Fawn's former boyfriend finally spotted the SAMCRO VP.

"You!" Max thundered as he strode forward, his large fists clenched to his sides.

"Uh, yeah, me. What the fuck are you doing showing up here? Can't you see this is a place of business and we're in the middle of our work day?"

"Like I give a shit, asshole! You know exactly why I'm here! This shit you have going on with Fawn, it ends now!" With all pretense of reasonableness pushed aside, Max pulled back and slammed his fist into Opie's face.

It was a solid hit, landing squarely on the biker's mouth, splitting his top lip open. The punch, such as it was, had been telegraphed and Opie could have easily avoided it, allowing Max to spill face first onto the black top. But in spite of his sudden and all-consuming rage, the outlaw was a fair-fighting man and decided to allow the stupid prick one fair shot.

And one was all he was going to get.

Grinning through the blood smearing his teeth, Opie slowly removed his rings, shoving them into the pocket of his work pants. Yanking off his T-M work shirt and wife-beater, he swiped at the blood trailing down his chin. It was deathly silent on the lot when Opie's calm voice spoke just barely enough to be heard.

"I hope you have next of kin available to claim the body 'cause my old lady sure as shit ain't doing it."

And lunging towards his opponent, Opie Winston threw his first punch.

* * *

"Damn it, Tina! Please, can't you make this piece of shit go any faster?" Fawn was practically pulling her hair out in the passenger seat next to Tina.

"I can, but I won't." Her friend shot back as she navigated her sporty cage through downtown traffic. "You won't be any good to Opie wrapped around a fuckin' pole, Fawn. Try to relax. We'll be there in three minutes."

The two women were currently speeding as quickly as they could towards the T-M lot. Tina had insisted on driving, knowing that letting her lead-footed friend behind the wheel of a powerful car in her current volatile state was not a good idea. Fortunately, in what Tina considered to be a merciful act of God, Fawn's car had refused to start, so they had been forced to take hers instead. No matter how much she dearly loved the young woman, there was no way in hell Tina was going to let Fawn drive her beloved car.

Taking a quick glance at her friend it was clear to Tina that Fawn's was quickly spiraling out of control, fear of the crime scene they could possibly be racing towards evident on her face. Although she had done all she could to let Max down easily, Fawn knew that if shit got ugly and out of control down at the lot, she would spend the rest of her life blaming herself for it. Tina had tried reasoning with her, telling her that she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had every right to find happiness and if that wasn't meant to be with Max, then he had to be a man and deal with it.

Tina had also tried convincing Fawn to call Opie and give him a heads up about Max, just in case the simpleton had indeed thought confronting the SAMCRO VP on his turf, surrounded by his brothers, was the way to go. Fawn knew Max as well as she knew Opie and there were no "ifs" involved. Max had every intention of confronting Opie and Opie had made it clear to her that Max had gotten off easy his first time in Charming. This wasn't going to end well for either man.

While Fawn knew that Max had coming whatever Opie was probably in the process of dishing out, the last thing she wanted was for Max to end up seriously hurt. And it being the middle of the day, it was likely that the garage was teeming with non-SAMCRO members or supporters, namely customers bringing in or picking up vehicles. These potential witnesses would probably have no problem calling the cops if Opie murdered Max with his bare hands. Fawn had waited all her adult life for a man like Opie and she wasn't about to lose him now.

Turning off of Main Street and heading towards the more industrial area of town, Fawn nearly wrung her hands raw as the garage came into sight. "You hear that?" She moaned, looking at Tina with wide, worried eyes.

"Shit," Tina muttered, acknowledging the sound of what seemed like a thousand men roaring with excitement. As they approached the lot's gate, what they were about to witness became clear as they realized they were hearing shouts of encouragement.

"Kick his fuckin' ass!"

"Rip his muthafuckin' head off!"

"Cut off his balls and shove 'em down his throat!"

As Tina made a sharp right onto the lot, her right foot stomped on the brakes, the car coming to a squealing halt as both women took in the chaotic melee playing out in front of them.

"Oh my God." Tina breathed as her heart clenched in her chest.

"Shit, Tina! Where did all these people come from?" Fawn sat frozen in her seat.

There was what could only be described as a sea of bodies crowding the area near the parking lot by the garage. Fawn couldn't remember seeing such a huge gathering on the lot except for Friday night parties. There were men in T-M shirts mixed with others in kuttes and even more that seemed like hang-arounds. Scattered throughout were Club women and everyone was gathered in one huge cluster, surrounding two behemoths pounding the shit out of each other. There were no split loyalties among the crowd, everyone in complete support of one man and one man only.

"Yeah, you got him, Ope!"

"Fuck him up, VP!

"Kill the son of a bitch, brother!"

Unbuckling her seat belt to stand up on the seat of Tina's convertible, Fawn finally managed to get a bird's eye view of Charming's Brawl of the Century. Stripped down to the waist, his bare chest gleaming with sweat as his shoulder length hair danced wild and free in the cool breeze, Opie was in the processing of delivering a punishing one-two combination on the battered and bruised face of the man desperately trying to regain control of the fight he never had to begin with.

Jumping up on her own seat, Tina's mouth fell open as she watched Opie brutalize Fawn's former boyfriend. Slamming his left fist into the side of Max's head, he followed with a right to the gut before ramming his steel-toed boot into Max's crotch as he leveled a smooth and calculated kick to the balls.

"Shit, that had to hurt!" Tina cried out as she clenched her own thighs together in sympathy.

The impact of the kick dropped Max like a sack of wet dirt onto the black top as the crowd roared even louder. Fawn watched in horrified fascination as Max writhed in pain, clutching at his family jewels before her old man picked him up by the throat with one hand. Tossing him like a mangy little mutt, Max landed against one the parked cars that her own father was perched on recording the epic battle on his cell phone.

"Bite his fuckin' ear off, man!" Tig hollered strategy as he if were Opie's corner man in a boxing ring. "It's allowed, brother! C'mon!"

"Tina, I have to stop this!" Fawn cried as she leaped out of the car and ran towards the crowd. Pushing and shoving her way through past a wall of bodies like Gemma at a designer sample sale, she could clearly hear the sound of Opie's heavy fists landing on Max's battered flesh. With Tina desperately trying to keep up, the flame-haired young woman finally broke through to the crowd in time to see Opie land another punishing blow on her semi-conscious ex-boyfriend.

 _He's gonna kill him_ , she thought with horror.

 _And you have a problem with that?_ Inner-Fawn asked acidly. _You told the fuckin' asshole not to come back_ _._

While a part of her felt bad that it had come to this for Max, a bigger part of her—the most selfish part of her wasn't thinking about Max's well-being. All she could think about were the consequences Opie would have to face if he managed to kill Max with his bare hands. She was already running a mental checklist of all they would need for their life on the lam. But before it came to that, Fawn had to try and stop the man she loved from committing murder because of her.

Before she could break free of the crowd in order to drag her old man off of Max's remains, Fawn suddenly found herself in a bear hug as a pair of brawny arms clamped around her from behind.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled indignantly, kicking her leg out and connecting with the knee of her assailant with a solid whack.

"Ow! Holy shit, girl! That hurt!" Otto yelled in her ear.

Turning her head to face him, Fawn completely forgot her place in the MC world. "Are you outta your fuckin' mind, you ape?! Get off me!" She glared angrily at the man that was holding her captive as she struggled in vain.

"No can do, sweet cheeks." Otto said with a demented smile on his face. In spite of her persistent wriggling and struggling against his hold, he lifted Fawn off of her feet and dragged her out of the crowd. "You need to stay right here with me." He said as he dropped her onto her feet by the picnic table outside the Clubhouse. Fawn was breathing heavily through her mouth from trying to fight off Big Otto. She made little effort to hide the fact that she was angrily staring at the large, long-haired patch who was eyeing her in return with a crooked grin as he massaged his stinging kneecap.

To think, Fawn lamented to herself, that she had immediately hit it off with the recent ex-con at his party, taking particular pleasure in Big Otto's somewhat twisted, but hilarious retelling of her father's early days with SAMCRO. Much to Opie's delight, Fawn had extended the ornery biker an invitation to the Winston home for a home-cooked meal and Otto had readily accepted. They had enjoyed a great time, along with Kenny and Ellie, as Otto had shared some of the most memorable moments of Opie as a prospect and new patch.

Now, however, the older biker was an unmovable obstacle keeping Fawn from getting her old man out of some really serious shit, but she wasn't prepared to stand down. Not even for a highly-respected former officer of the Club.

Momentarily forgetting that Opie and Jax preferred their women a little more spirited than most, Otto took for granted that Fawn would adhere to a direct order like most old ladies would. But Fawn was as wily as a fox and taking advantage of his aching knee as a distraction, darted to his right and made a run for it. She would have made it too had not Tina finally caught up to them and unwittingly blocked her path.

"Jesus Christ, Fawn!" Big Otto grabbed her arm and pulled her back, forcing her to drop her ass onto the bench. "Stop it and fuckin' relax, will ya?! THIS," He said loudly as he pointed a thumb towards the brawling men. "Is your old man's business, NOT yours. You need to step aside and let him handle his shit."

"Fuck that!" Fawn retorted angrily. "You expect me to just stand aside and let him beat a man to death?!"

Otto's narrowed his eyes at the young woman. "You still love that piece of shit he's pounding?" His anger was starting to rise at the thought that his brother's old lady wasn't loyal to him, but Fawn quickly disabused him of that notion.

"Are you fuckin' mental?! Do you know how long it took me to finally snag his fine ass? I'm not about to stand by and watch my old man end up in prison." Moistening her dry lips, Fawn stood up to look over Otto's shoulders, which were now shaking with laughter, in order to watch Opie's continued assault on Max, wincing as he took another particularly brutal blow to the head. "Please, for the love of God, do something to stop this." She pleaded with Otto.

Otto continued to chuckle as he looked down at Fawn and then sighed. "Stay here." He pointed an index finger at Fawn. "I mean it, understand?" Nodding shakily, Fawn watched as the big man with the blue bandana tied around his head step towards the edge of the crowd still surrounding the two fighting men. "Yo, Hap!" Otto yelled.

The bald-headed biker paused his shouts of encouragement in order to reply. "What the fuck, bro? I'm busy."

"Well, get real UN-busy and break up that shit. NOW!" Otto ordered. The former VP's tone brooked no argument.

Watching as Tacoma Killah bullied his way through the crowd, grabbing a couple of brothers for assistance in breaking up the fight, Otto heaved a little sigh of relief. It took both Happy and Jax, but they were finally able to pull Opie off of what was left of his old lady's old flame.

 _Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit_ , Otto thought as Opie easily shook off his two brothers with the intention of finishing the job before Happy and Jax jumped on him again. _But t_ _hat's just way too much fuckin' energy to spend fighting for love_.

Turning to look at Fawn, Big Otto noticed that, now that the fight was over, gone was the look of intense worry on her pretty face. _Unfortunately for Ope_ , Otto thought. _She's lookin' mighty pissed. Hope Ope saved enough energy to deal with his hell cat once she gets her hands on him_.

* * *

_Big Red is pissed!_

Sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs spread apart while Fawn knelt on the floor between them and administered to his cuts and bruises, Opie decided that pissed was probably too mild a word to describe his old lady at the moment. She was so beyond enraged that Fawn was literally rendered speechless. She had sputtered a string of unintelligible words at him once the fight was over and then fell silent. He wasn't quite sure if what she had said qualified as a full sentence because it didn't even sound like English, the only word he had been able to make out being "asshole".

Despite the fact that he had been deeply in the thrall of his bloodlust as he pounded the ever lovin' shit out of Max Ryder, Opie had been fully aware of his old lady's appearance on the scene. He had also noticed—and was none too happy about—the fact that she had attempted to keep him from permanently ending the glorified roadie's life. Opie had every intention of taking her to task for involving herself in a situation that was completely out of her purview.

Hissing a little as she applied—quite savagely in his opinion—Mercurochrome to his split knuckles, Opie noticed that for the first time in the last thirty minutes, she was muttering under her breath. Sure, she was muttering vile curses aimed at him, but at least he knew that her anger had not rendered her permanently mute. At first Opie figured he'd just let Fawn deal with her feelings about what she had witnessed in her own way. But as the silent treatment continued, a faint thought creeped into the back of his mind that had him instantly tensing up.

 _What if_ _Big Red is pissed because she still has some feelings left for that dick head_? Opie wondered to himself. It was something he had never contemplated before and even now was sorely wishing he hadn't thought about. After all the shit they had been through in their short time together and after making a commitment to each other in front of a Clubhouse full of people, the idea that Fawn was now reconsidering her decision to be with him as a mistake was slowly licking the flames of his anger.

_Sweetheart, if you think I'm gonna step aside so you can nurse that pitiful piece of shit back to health and replace him in my bed, you're crazier than your father._

As Opie felt his shoulders tensing up with rage and focused his green eyes on the bent head that was currently prodding, pulling, wiping and wrapping his hands, Fawn was completely clueless to the fact that her old man was about to lose his shit all over her.

* * *

Having secured the sterile gauze bandages she had wrapped around her old man's bleeding hands with cloth medical tape, Fawn used his knees to push herself onto her feet. Without a word, she gathered all the bits of bloody gauze pads and used alcohol swabs to dump into the small garbage pail in Opie's bathroom. Calmly gathering the unused first aid supplies and returning them to the kit, Fawn placed it on top of his dresser. Turning around to stand in front of her man, Fawn crossed her arms under her chest and finally opened her mouth and cut loose on his ass.

"What the fuckin' fuck was that all about, Redwood?!"

Standing up to tower over Fawn as he made his point, Opie crossed his own arms over his massive chest. "Oh, you mean it wasn't clear, _She-devil_?! I was doing what needed to be done in order to rid myself for once and for all of the fuckin' piece of shit who thought he could show up _here_ and make demands about _my_ old lady!" He nearly bellowed, his green eyes flashing dangerously. "He deserved the shit-kicking he got and don't act like you didn't know that's exactly what was gonna happen if he showed up here again."

Refusing to be intimidated, instead of falling back a step, the spawn of Trager stepped forward and stabbed a manicured finger on Ope's broad chest. "So your genius plan was to beat him to death in front of a lot full of _witnesses_?!"

"That's not something you needed to worry about, Fawn! My brothers had my back and had I finished the job, none of them would have dimed me out," He retorted. "Which is why you shouldn't have gotten involved!"

"So what was I supposed to do? Stand back and cheer you on?!" Fawn was incredulous. "You're clearly not seeing where I'm coming from!" She tugged at her hair in frustration as she whirled about his dorm.

"Well, babe, then maybe you should fuckin' clue me in because what I'm seeing is you losing your shit because on some level you still have feelings for Max-fuckin'-Ryder!" He shouted angrily as Fawn's eyes widened in shock.

Suddenly lashing out, Fawn pummeled Opie's left shoulder with her small fists. "You are such a fuckin' asshole!" She yelled, taking Opie by surprise. "I thought you knew me better than that! I hadn't thought about Max in over a year until he showed his ass up here five weeks ago. After he took off again, I've been so fuckin' happy that all I could do was pray that he would stay away because I knew you would want to kill him and the last thing I wanted to do was lose YOU! But he's in town for less than an hour and you're already thinking that I would turn my back on you for him?!"

Opie suddenly did feel like an asshole, but he also felt a measure of relief as his heart finally left his throat. However, seeing the combatant look on her face disappear to reveal the hurt his accusation had caused in her eyes, the VP winced as he noted the tears running down her cheeks.

"You big fuckin' ape!" Fawn sniffed as she swiped away at her leaky eyes. Turning on her heel, she stomped towards the door, determined to leave before she completely lost her shit and told Opie to fuck off.

Fortunately, she didn't get far. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, Opie bent his head, tucking it into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry, baby." He said quietly. At first, Fawn stubbornly refused to answer. Instead, she used her elbow to catch him in the solar plexus. Opie grunted, surprised at her strength, but the blow wasn't enough to dislodge him. "You been working out, Big Red? That was pretty fuckin' good."

"You're an asshole." She replied irritably.

"So I've heard, but I'm your lovable asshole, right?" He reminded her as nibbled on the area under her ear before sucking on her earlobe. "Who you'll forgive because you love me."

 _Shit, I'm so fuckin' easy! He always gets me like this_ , Fawn sighed as she relaxed in his arms.

Opie smiled. He knew his old lady. With her initial rage now banked to a slow simmer and his own anger at bay, he knew that they would be able to straighten shit out.

Pulling her back with him, Opie sat on the edge of the bed, tugging her down until she was on his lap and wrapped in his arms. "I guess we've both had a pretty rough day, huh?"

"Ya think?" Fawn snarked as she ran her fingers through his hair and gave it a little tug. "Damn, I think it's time I gave you another haircut, Redwood."

"Baby, we have more important shit to discuss than the state of my hair." He said seriously.

"It's either that or I wring your damn neck for the stunt you pulled today." Fawn said as she eyed her old man. "I worked too damn hard playing hard to get to lose you to prison now, you idiot. And you know they execute people here in California for murder, right?" She whispered anxiously.

"Babe, I wasn't gonna kill him." Opie lied with a straight face. "I just wanted to make him realize that coming back here was a huge mistake."

"Uh, yeah, right. I was born at night, Redwood, but not _last night_." Fawn said before running her hand over his battered face. Gently stroking his busted lip with her thumb, Fawn sighed. "You have any idea how much I love you, Ope? I need you to believe that I don't give a damn about Max."

"I do believe that, Fawn—Shit, baby, the thought of losing you makes me want to go out of my fuckin' mind. I don't know where that shit about Max came from, but I am sorry." Opie said earnestly.

"I know," Fawn wrapped her arms around his neck as Opie covered her eager mouth with his own. Wincing from the pain in his split lip, Opie pulled away and didn't notice that Fawn was also feeling pain in the lip that Max had bit.

Playing it off, Fawn rested her head against his. "What about Max?"

Opie shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "What about him?"

"It's over, baby. Just let him go. I don't think he'll be back after this."

Opie placed his hands around her waist to gently lift her from his lap and stood up. "He better not because even though I love you, Fawn, third strike and he's out."

"Okay," Fawn readily agreed. "So let's impress that fact on him and send him on his way."

Against his better judgment, Opie nodded and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Wrapping an arm around Fawn's shoulders, they headed towards the door.

* * *

Jax and several of his brothers stood around in grim silence as their resident medic did his best to patch up the worst of Max's injuries. His SAA was more inclined to tossing Max into the back of his truck and taking him for a ride out to the desert. Happy had quickly volunteered to accompany him, but although tempted, Jax's good sense had prevailed in the end. Having had the opportunity to beat the ever-loving shit out of a couple of douchebags—that for one reason or another thought they could come between him and his old lady—Jax could relate to Opie's need to pound the brash young man into dust. After all, Max Ryder had dared to invade the SAMCRO VP's territory in order to stake a claim on his woman. Jax more than understood a man's primal need to defend what was his, so he stood back and watched his best friend systematically tear the man to bits.

But now, all Jax wanted was to get the man patched up, off the lot, and way the fuck out of Charming before Opie decided to show his face. Having pressed Chibs into service, the Scot was currently muttering under his breath as he bandaged the man up, everyone keenly aware that the shouting match between Opie and his old lady had died down. Hopefully, they were in the process of making up with a round of angry sex, giving SAMCRO the chance to get Max out of Dodge. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like that was gonna happen. Jax crossed his arms over his broad chest as he heard the heavy footfalls of his brother as Opie made his way through the patches and hang-arounds crowding the Main Room. With his old lady at his side, Opie loomed over the battered man sitting on a chair at one of the tables.

"I had hoped you had some fuckin' brain cells left and I would find you gone by now." Opie said calmly.

"Why would I go?" Max replied with false bravado. "I'm not fuckin' done with you yet."

Jax smirked as a chuckles rippled through the room. The man had a set of stones, he had to give him that much. Here he was, licking his wounds in the lion's den and was still unwilling to back down even though the alpha of the pride looked ready to snap his neck like it was a fuckin' twig.

"Yes you are, Max." Fawn said as she stood tall and proud next to her old man. "You're being given the chance to leave here in something resembling one piece. I strongly suggest you take it."

Max's angry blue eyes met hers. Sitting there, seeing the two of them together filled him with anger and rage like he never felt before. He wasn't used to losing, especially where Fawn was concerned. No matter how she had been treated by him in the past, Fawn always ended up coming back. Apparently, he had played the game one to many times, thinking that she was too damaged by her daddy issues to ever leave and stay gone.

"You're making a big mistake, Fawn." Max started, addressing Fawn as if no one else in the world existed. "He's already branded you like you're some fuckin' cow. You really think he's gonna be good to you, then you deserve whatever the fuck you get with him." He said angrily.

"Your objection is duly noted," Jax spoke up. "Now I suggest you leave, while you still can."

"And if you know what's good for you," Opie added coldly. "You won't come back."

Standing up, the man weaved dangerously for a moment before regaining his balance. The Clubhouse was deadly quiet as he slowly made his way to the exit. Leaning against the door frame for support, Max turned to eye the couple as they stood surrounded by Fawn's new family. "One day real soon, She-devil, you're gonna regret the choices you've made." He said soberly. "And you're gonna deserve every minute of the pain."

Turning his back on Fawn, Max Ryder exited the Clubhouse and headed to his truck.


	31. Take Five, Part I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

For some people like Jolene Teller, sleep was simply a necessary evil. It was something the body needed, like food and water, in order to function and over the years, Jolene had become quite adept at functioning just fine with sometimes as little as four hours a night.

For others like Fawn Trager, especially after being thoroughly exhausted by her old man's expert lovemaking, sleep was sacred and to be treasured. In her case, it would normally take an act of God or war to pull her from the deep and peaceful slumber she was enjoying as if she had not a care in the world.

This morning, however, all it would take was a simple phone call.

The couple was currently spooning in Opie's oversized bed at the Clubhouse, literally dead to the world after their marathon session between the sheets. The fact that Fawn had enough energy left after an 18-hour day preparing the salon for its grand opening had a perma-smile tugging at the corner of Opie's mouth even as he slept. Reminding himself of just what a lucky bastard he was had been Opie's last thought before drifting off to sleep with his arms wrapped around his old lady. For Fawn, after a long and busy day, getting worked over by her Redwood was just what the doctor ordered. She would probably wake herself up from a coma before she turned down an offer from Opie to rock her world.

With her old boyfriend out of the picture, Fawn's life as of late seemed to be on the fast track to happiness. She and Opie were on solid ground and the only thing causing her stress was the salon, but it was a good kind of stress. After months of financial and construction setbacks, Fawn was now enjoying the kind of happy, anxious stress of waiting for something or someone you loved to arrive. _Take Five's_ arrival in Charming would happen in less than a week's time and Fawn was ready to jump out of her skin with excitement.

Earlier that evening, Fawn had packed up some work to take home with her after she and Tina closed the salon for the night. She suggested picking up some takeout before heading over to Tina's house for some more brain-storming but Tina, who seemed a little reluctant, quickly put her off. Instead, she encouraged her young friend to go spend some "quality" time with her old man.

Like the surrogate mother she was, Tina was anxious that with Fawn being so consumed with the salon she wasn't leaving enough time for Opie. The last thing a man wanted was to feel neglected by his woman and Tina didn't want Fawn messing up now.

Bewildered, Fawn narrowed her eyes at Tina. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, T." She had said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean, sweetheart."

"Yeah, I actually do," Fawn conceded. "But what about you? You shouldn't have to tackle the rest of this alone."

Tina laughed a little sheepishly. "Don't you worry about me. I can wrap things up and still find a little down time for some relaxation. Hey, if Ope is still at the Clubhouse, maybe you should go and surprise him there." She said nonchalantly.

Fawn smiled. "You know, that's a really good idea. He hates it when I drag him back to my place. He can never really get comfortable there."

"That settles it then." Tina said, giving Fawn a kiss before locking the salon doors. "Go on and make your old man's day. After the long day we've had, he's probably suffering from separation anxiety."

Arriving at the lot in record time, Fawn entered the Clubhouse with renewed energy and a spring in her step.

Spotting her old man with a group of his brothers spread out on several couches and in deep conversation, Fawn waited on the side until she caught his eye and smiled as she saw his face light up. Taking that as her cue, Fawn entered the group with a quick hello for everyone before grabbing Opie by the arm and dragging him off to his dorm. With a chorus of catcalls and whistles following them down the hall, Opie grabbed and squeezed Fawn's ass as he threatened to show her just how much he had missed her with a couple of hours of vigorous playtime.

Having settled into a deep sleep shortly after two in the morning, the young woman, who had no plans on getting up until mid-morning, was thoroughly enjoying her exhausted slumber. Aside from helping Opie get rid of some early morning wood, all she had set for the next day was another planning session with her partners at the salon.

It was unfortunate, however, that not all things go according to plan.

Fawn was so deeply asleep that when her cell phone started ringing, her subconscious incorporated it into the dream she was having. Soon, the eight-year old Fawn of her dream, along with ten-year old Dawn, watched in rapt attention as the kangaroo at the petting zoo reached into its pouch and pulled out a ringing phone. Not a cell phone but the old-fashioned corded one her grandparents used to have on the table in the foyer of their house. Giggling both in her dream and in her sleep, Fawn started to stir as the shrilling noise of the phone continued. Moaning, she refused to give in to the persistent caller's efforts to destroy what was an enjoyable rest and a pretty quirky dream.

It was her old man, however, who finally managed to nudge her awake in the darkened room. "Babe, that's your shit ringing. Answer it before I throw it out the fuckin' window." Opie murmured as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"What the fuck?" Fawn whined, her voice still thick with sleep and her throat dry and raspy. Cracking her left eye into a narrow slit, she looked at the night table and saw her phone lit up like a Christmas tree and ringing its head off.

"Shut up, you piece of shit!" Fawn whisper-snarled. The phone immediately complied and fell silent. "Awesome." She sighed before snuggling her ass against her old man, allowing her eyes to drift close again.

"Babe, you keep wiggling that shit, I'm gonna have to flip that ass over and take care of this itch you've started in my boxers." Opie mumbled, his eyes still closed.

"Bite me." She murmured sleepily.

"Oh, I'll be doing that too." Opie growled into the back of her neck.

Snorting a laugh, she was about to reply when her phone started up again. "Shit!" Fawn moaned. Yanking her hand from underneath the covers, she reached for and missed the ringing phone. Knocking it onto the hardwood floor, it skidded underneath the bed. "Fuck a duck! Really?! Forget it." Fawn yanked at her pillow and buried her head under it to hide from the constant noise.

_God, I have got to change that ringtone. I'm so tired of the Booty Song._

Unfortunately, Opie was now fully awake. Ignoring the frustrated moans of his bed partner, he pulled the pillow off her head and tossed it over his shoulder, where it slammed against the wall before falling to the floor.

Reaching up over his head, Opie flipped on the wall sconce on his side of the bed. "Babe, you should get that." Looking over her shoulder ready to argue, Fawn saw the look of concern on his face. "It might be important."

Heaving a loud sigh as she pulled her legs free from Opie's, Fawn leaned over the side of the bed and feeling around under it, finally found her phone. Triumphantly pulling it out without falling on her head, the phone stopped ringing again. Muttering a slew of obscenities under her breath, she pulled herself back into bed. Flipping on the wall lamp on her side, Fawn squinted as the lights flooded the bed by her head. She was about to pull up her missed calls in order to see what idiot had disturbed her sleep, but she never got the chance.

The smartphone started ringing yet again and looking down at the caller i.d., Fawn was suddenly wide awake. "What the hell?" She said as she quickly accepted the call. "Hey, Lex. What's going on?" She started.

But her friend and partner had no time for pleasantries. "Fawn, I need you to get down to the salon right now." She said tearfully.

Now sitting up and leaning against the headboard, Opie's brow furrowed, noting Fawn's back stiffen as she fell deathly quiet. "Babe, what is it?"

Disconnecting the call, she let the phone fall from her hand, landing with a soft bounce on the bed.

"It's the salon," Fawn started, her bottom lip quivering as she reached out to Opie with a shaky hand, which he immediately grabbed. "Something awful happened to the salon."

* * *

The dawn was just breaking over the horizon, and in the distance the tips of the California Mountains were a deep burnt orange against the brightening sky as Opie and Fawn turned onto Main Street and streaked towards the salon. They weren't alone as Tiki, Juice, Filthy Phil and Big Otto followed closely behind. Just barely 6:00 am, Fawn shivered as the chill of the early morning fall air whistled through the open neck of her leather jacket as she pulled herself flush against Opie's back in an effort to absorb more of his body heat.

The outlaw had been surprised at just how fast his old lady could move. Literally leaping out of bed, it had taken fast-acting reflexes on his part to grab Fawn before she dashed out of his dorm, through the Clubhouse and to her car wearing nothing but a sheer black teddy and bare feet. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, Opie turned her to face him as she struggled in vain against his hold. Giving her a little shoulder shake, Opie hoped to see the wildness in her blazing blue eyes dissipate to their usual normal clarity, but the spawn of Trager was in full bat-shit crazy mode.

"Opie Winston, I fuckin' love the shit outta you, but if you don't let me go, I swear, I'll kick you in the balls!" She stormed as she ineffectually beat on his bare chest with her fists. "That's my fuckin' salon!" She gasped and then shuddered as sudden tears streamed down her face.

Tucking her body close to his, Opie whispered soothingly as Fawn struggled to get her emotions under control. "Okay, baby. I know. I know." He used his large fingers to swipe away at her tears. "It's just that even though you look gorgeous, babe, I still don't want you giving the whole town a free show by showing up down there in your underwear. I won't have the fuckin' pigs getting to see you the way only I do." Looking up into green eyes filled with compassion, concern and cajoling humor finally got through the haze of her anger and fear, and Fawn felt herself come back from the ledge. As her body relaxed in his arms, Opie felt a measure of relief.

"Okay, it's just—" She started, sniffling. "Ope, it's _my_ baby."

"I know, sweetheart, and we're gonna take care of her, but I can't have you losing your shit on me now, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Redwood. Didn't you know? Losing our shit is the Trager family Call-to-Arms." Fawn tried to smile as she swiped the tears from her face.

"Yeah, I do know," He smiled. "But there's no need for that now because I'm here for you."

Fawn's eyes rounded and shone with the immense love she had for this man. "And you have no idea how much that means to me, baby." She reached up to kiss him gently on the lips.

Deepening the kiss, the outlaw biker finally pulled away before giving her a gentle slap on her ass. "Now, go wash up and throw on some clothes, preferably not of the see-through variety." Opie winked at her as he quickly pulled on the jeans he had discarded with much haste the night before and his boots. "I'm gonna go grab a couple of brothers." He said as he headed towards the door.

"Ope, no!" Fawn called out. "I don't want you pulling anybody out of bed for this."

"Hey," Opie started, stepping away from the door and up to Fawn. "You're SAMCRO, Fawn, and that means that everyone in this Clubhouse is your family. That's what we do." He pressed a kiss on her brow wrinkled with worry. "Besides, if there's any shit-kicking to be done, my brothers are gonna want in on it because that's what we do, too." Hearing her chuckle, Opie dropped a quick kiss on her before nudging her towards the bathroom.

Making her way to the bathroom after watching Opie close the door behind him, Fawn had a smile on her face in spite the circumstances. The simple fact that she was no longer alone in the world, that she now had a family, was truly a comforting thought as she did as her old man had directed. Fawn quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Grabbing some clean underwear, jeans and a t-shirt out of one of the drawers Opie had cleared out for her, ten minutes later Fawn was on the back of her old man's bike as they tore out of the T-M lot with their entourage.

But now, as they got closer to the salon, Fawn could make out the intermittent blue and red strobe lights of several police cruisers from the Sanwa Sheriff's Department in the dusky early morning light.

"Opie!" She yelled over the roar of her old man's bike. "This isn't looking good."

And as he approached the scene, Opie was inclined to agree. Feeling his heart sink deeper in his chest for his old lady, he slowly navigated between the three cruisers that were crisscrossed over several lanes of traffic. Several deputies were currently putting up crime scene tape to keep rubberneckers from gathering in front of the salon's entrance. In spite of the fact that it was Saturday and that the sun was newly risen, the street was already jammed with people craning their necks and straining to see what had happened.

Opie had barely pulled to a stop when Fawn loosened her grip from around his waist and jumped off his bike. Snatching her helmet off her head, she helplessly let it slide out of her fingers and it hit the pavement. In shock, her hands rose, clenched into fists to rest on her chin.

"Oh my God." She moaned brokenly.

As the day continued to break, what little Fawn could see through the wide open doors of the salon truly devastated her.

Suddenly, she heard a tearful cry. "Fawn!"

Whipping around, the tall young woman suddenly had an armful of a near-hysterical Lexie Dawson. "Oh, Lex," Fawn cried as they clung to each other. Soon they were both talking and crying over each other.

"Aw, fuck," Filthy Phil started as he warily eyed the two women. "I'm staying right here. I can't do shit for a bawling woman."

"I hear that, bro." Juice replied soberly. "Let the VP handle that shit."

Getting off his ride, Opie quickly made his way over to Fawn and Lexie and wrapped his powerful arms around them. As the two women wrapped their arms around him in return, he tried to get them under control. "Hey, the place is still standing, babe. It can't be all that bad." Opie said as he kissed the top of Fawn's head and squeezed her to him.

"Yeah it is! You _don't_ wanna go in there, Fawn." Lexie's voice was muffled against the biker's kutte. "I almost threw up. I still think I might hurl. I don't know how I'm gonna tell Mom."

"Shit, bro. Looks like all of Sanwa's Sheriffs are on the scene." Tiki said as he approached Opie. "This can't be good. I'm really sorry, Fawn." He squeezed her arm in consolation.

"Where's Tina? And my Dad?" Fawn demanded, angrily swiping away at her tears. "They should have been here by now."

"They're coming, babe. Look," Opie replied as he angled Fawn to face the other end of the street. Tig Trager's bike was burning rubber, coming up fast on the group with Tina riding bitch.

"I called Tina after I finally got hold of you." Lexie explained. "She wasn't at home, but I finally got her on her cell. She was at your place."

"At Dad's?" Fawn frowned.

 _Tig never takes women to his_ _Fortress of Solitude_.

 _Hey, no sense in wasting that big ass mirrored_ _ceiling, right?_ Inner-Fawn snarked. _Hey, if he doesn't take his ho's back to the house, why would he have a mirror over the bed?_

Pushing the disturbing possible answers to that question to the back of her mind, it finally dawned on Fawn that Tina's plan to "relax" had been made with a certain outlaw biker in mind. Putting yet another thought regarding her father in the rearview, she watched as Tig brought his bike to a halt several yards away.

"C'mon, Doll," Tig said in a dark tone. "Go see to Fawnzy."

Tina needed no such prodding, however, as she literally tossed Tig's helmet at him as she ran over to both women. With her heart tightening painfully in her chest, Tina wrapped her arms around her distraught partners. With wide angry eyes she took in the scene of chaos surrounding them.

The last thing she had expected was to have what she had planned to be a leisurely Saturday morning in bed with Tig preempted by a hysterical Lexie. Now as her eyes adjusted to the shadows cast over the entrance into the salon by the flashing lights of squad cars, Tina could see some of the devastation that had been wrought.

 _After all of our hard work,_ Tina lamented. _Why the hell did this have to happen now?_

Getting off his ride, Tig Trager was angry enough to spit nails. Watching as Opie was shoved aside by Tina in order to embrace her adopted daughters, Tig quickly stomped over to his brothers. "Where's the Prez and what the fuck do we know?" He shot at Opie.

"I called Jax. He's on his way. As for this shit," Opie pointed to the cops swarming the scene. "Nothing yet. We just got here. Couldn't get much out of Lexie other than tears, some muttered obscenities and a whole lotta snot. What we need to do is talk to whoever the fuck's in charge, like right now."

"That would be me, Mr. Winston."

Turning his head, Opie's eyes narrowed as a tall familiar man in his customarily sharply pressed uniform made his way to the group.

* * *

Lieutenant Eli Roosevelt surveyed the rugged group as he approached. In spite of his efforts to comfort Fawn Trager and the two women with her, it was clear that Opie Winston barely had his rage in check. Just below the surface of his understated and calm demeanor, the giant man was seething. With the unpredictable and volatile Tig Trager also on the scene, Eli realized that the situation could easily escalate out of control if he didn't handle it delicately.

Eli's tone was formal and respectful as he addressed the SAMCRO crowd. "Gentlemen," He nodded towards the patches, and then turned to address Tina. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you before. I'm Lieutenant Eli Roosevelt from the Sanwa Sheriff's Department." He held out his hand to her. "You must be the third owner."

Pulling away from the girls, Tina nodded and shook his hand. "Yes, I'm Tina Giamatti."

Shaking her hand, noting that her grip was as firm as his, Eli quickly appraised Tina. _So this is Jolene Teller's mother. I guess_ _the rumors were_ _true_ _after all_ _. She is the spitting image of Teller's old lady._

Even after nearly four years of living and working in Charming, Eli wasn't any closer to figuring out the inner workings of SAMCRO's criminal enterprise. But the fact remained that Charming was a small town and like all small towns, gossip about its inhabitants was the local pastime and could be found just about anywhere. Eli no longer had access to the confidential informants that he had as head of Oakland PD's gang unit, but he did have something better: access to the gossip floating around Floyd's Barber Shop. As a result, Eli was well aware that not only was Charming's newest resident a financially well-off widow from Seattle, but that she also had the closest of ties to the local MC.

"Lieutenant," Tina started, her voice trembling with emotion. "Could you please tell us what happened?"

"Do the Keystone Kops even have any idea whose responsible for fuckin' up my kid's place?" Tig started belligerently as he wrapped an arm around his daughter. "I'd be surprised if they did 'cause it looks like all you and your guys are doing is standing around yanking on each others dicks. How about doing some of that cop shit you get paid for and tell us what the fuck is going on?" He demanded.

Eli raised one eyebrow as he listened to the clearly angry biker's diatribe. "You have my sympathy, but you're still going to need to dial back the animosity just a bit." He advised evenly.

"Dad, please." Fawn pleaded. "This isn't the time or place for a pissing contest."

"Of course it ain't, Fawnzy." Tig drawled. "Besides, I'd win every time 'cause mine's bigger. _Way bigger._ " The toothless smile he leveled at the Sheriff was not reflected in his eyes.

"Lieutenant, please excuse my father. They get difficult with age." Fawn replied, glaring at Tig, who was looking at her with innocent, but crazy eyes. "Please just tell us what happened so we can go in and see the damage for ourselves."

Eli crossed his arms and directed his comments at the three partners. "About an hour ago, one of my off-duty officers was on his way home when he spotted some suspicious activity as he drove by your property. He said he could see what he thought were the flickering of flashlights from inside the building. Backing up in his vehicle to get a better look, he realized that he had been spotted by whomever was inside because they took off for the back door of the salon. He pursued on foot and by the time he made his way to the back alley, what he surmised was the getaway vehicle was speeding away from the scene. The perp had a good head start and by the time the officer made it back to his car and started pursuit, he lost him." Eli said with a note of regret in his voice.

"Well, shit!" Tig said sarcastically. "He got away. How NOT surprised is anyone here about that shit? What kind of a cop is this asshole?"

"It just so happens that the deputy is new on the force and unfamiliar with this part of town." Eli explained.

"Great! The one major crime to happen in Charming in years and we get stuck with a fuckin' rookie." Tig retorted. "What was he, too busy jerking off with a donut to haul ass and catch the scumbag who broke into my kid's shop?"

The Sheriff chuckled sarcastically. "Maybe he was just too focused on catching the criminals that hide in plain sight pretending to be the good guys." Eli allowed his eyes to slowly drift over the Sons in their kuttes, the unspoken accusation loud and clear in his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to chalk this one up in the category of 'Shit Just Happens'."

Seeing the fire flare in not just her father's eyes, but in her old man's as well, Fawn quickly spoke up. "Pah-leese! Can we just stop?" Having managed to regain her composure during the alpha male bullshit between Tig and the long arm of the law, Fawn decidedly took over the situation. "Any idea if this was just some punks killing time by vandalizing our salon or was the intent robbery?"

Eli rubbed a hand over his gleaming bald head. "That's a good question. A couple of my deputies have come up with a theory, but to tell you the truth, we'd need you and your partners to look through the damage before we can piece together what really happened here." He explained.

"And what is that theory, Lieutenant?" Tina asked.

"A string of robberies have been reported over the last few months over in Modesto. A couple of meth head tweakers were picked up last week. They claim they're part of a robbery ring and didn't act alone in boosting easily movable items to score quick cash for drugs. A number of high profile homes and businesses have been targeted. Was there anything of any value that they could steal and resell?"

Fawn shook her head. "Not yet. The new security system is scheduled for installation on Monday. Only _then_ were we planning on moving in a lot of high-end equipment—flat screen TVs, a sound system, computers, and salon equipment. I'm sure the electronics could have easily been fenced."

Eli sighed. "Too bad you didn't have the system installed before now, but at least you didn't lose all that pricey merchandise. If I had to guess, I would say that when the perp or perps couldn't find anything of value to sell, they decided to pay you back by vandalizing the place."

"How bad?" Opie asked quietly.

Knowing that there was nothing he could say that would soften the blow, Eli shook his head. "I think it's best just to let the ladies see for themselves. Cane!" The Sheriff called out loudly to a group of his deputies gathered around one of the cruisers.

Pulling away, Deputy Mitchell Cane quickly made his way to his commanding officer's side. "You called, L.T.?"

"Is everyone finished inside?"

Cane nodded, his head bobbing up and down. "Yeah, CSU is done dusting for prints and have finished photographing the crime scene. Martinez is inside writing it up. He's waiting on the owners to confirm any missing valuables in order to finalize the initial report."

"Good." Eli turned to the group. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you inside."

* * *

 _Lex was right_ , Fawn thought as her stomach roiled about queasily. _I wanna throw up too._

Walking past the crowd of would-be spectators and through the open front doors of the salon, Fawn came to an abrupt halt. "God," She whispered, a lump forming in her throat as she absorbed the carnage before her like a punch in the gut.

Standing in the reception area, the scene was so wildly graphic it was almost surreal. The Sons—having allowed the women to enter first—stood silently as they took stock of all the damage, their anger and rage, for two of them in particular, palpable.

Seeing her slender shoulders tremble with emotion, Opie walked towards his old lady and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Keep it together, Big Red. You're not alone and we're gonna fix this shit, I promise." Opie whispered into her hair, his voice a mixture of anger and sympathy.

Seeing his daughter's pain and look of defeat on her face made Tig curse savagely under his breath. Only days before had Fawn given him a tour of her new business. Although he had to admit that he couldn't understand a woman's fascination with all the girly frou-frou shit, Tig had felt immense pride in what she had accomplished seemingly by sheer force of will alone.

Tig couldn't put into words how it felt to witness his daughter, a one-time teenage junky, pull herself out of an existence not many survived to make a success out of herself. Colleen had taken every opportunity she could to accuse him of being a shitty father and she was right. Tig knew he had been, but he also knew that he must have done something right by being there for her when Fawn had needed him most.

After nearly losing his seventeen-year old daughter to a drug overdose, Tig had secluded himself for a week with Fawn in some cheap motel while she detoxed. It had pained him to see her so sick from withdrawal, but once the drugs were out of her system, he cleaned her up and hauled her ass to rehab. He couldn't take credit for the eleven years of hard work Fawn had put into staying sober, but had he not finally manned up and became the father she needed at the time, it was likely they wouldn't be standing where they were now.

Now, the daughter that loved him more than he probably deserved had been knocked to the ground again by some scumbag piece of shit who had trampled all over her hard work and destroyed her dreams overnight. Suffering such a devastating blow could set her back in more ways than one and Tig knew that, now more than ever, his Fawnzy needed his reassurance that it would all be okay. Just like she had almost twelve years ago in that rundown motel off OR-99 in Eugene, Oregon.

"Damn, Fawnzy," Tig said his tone sober as he once again took in the destruction. Stepping in front of her, Tig—a man not at all known for public displays of affection—took his daughter's face in his heavily ringed hands and tilted it up to him. Seeing his own bright blue eyes in her face filled with unshed tears, he leaned in and gently kissed her forehead. "I want you to hear what I'm saying, a'ight?" He whispered.

Fawn nodded, but couldn't say a word.

"This shit is fixable, baby girl, and we _are_ gonna fix it. Even if I have to ride every Prospect the Club has with my boot up their ass, I promise ya, we're gonna fix it. No matter what the cost, you got that? And I don't want to hear none of this 'I gotta do this shit on my own' shit coming from you 'cause SAMCRO takes care of its own. Understand?"

Fawn inhaled deeply and pushing back the tears, nodded. "I understand, Daddy."

Tig smiled. "Good."

"I love you, you old fart." She whispered, sniffling.

"Why'd ya have to go and ruin the moment, huh?" Tig grinned. "Now let's see what we're working with. It sure don't look like it did when you gave me the grand tour, but it will again." He slapped a fist on his brother's shoulder. "Right, Ope?"

"Absolutely." Opie replied. "Let's give the girls a minute to process." He said quietly as the three women slowly started to pick their way through the salon, followed by Deputy Martinez.

* * *

"They didn't miss a damn thing, did they?" Lexie huffed angrily.

"They sure didn't," Fawn agreed, her anger smoldering. "Fuckin' bastards." She allowed her eyes to pan over the room, surveying the mess like it was some living art exhibit of destruction.

The leather furniture that had been picked out with such care for the reception area had been mutilated, the stuffing pulled out and strewn across the room. Every lamp and decorative object d'art fashionably scattered throughout the salon had been smashed to bits. The reception area with its sleek counter and walled backdrop had been slashed and hacked at with deep grooves carved into the high backed chairs of the station.

The beautiful live plants, flowers and trees that had been placed in large earthenware pots had been hacked and ripped apart, mounds of dirt scattered all over the salon and ground into the carpeted areas. Every station's mirror had been shattered, the drawers pulled open and smashed, with the contents strewn about and the station's chairs slashed open before being thrown to the floor.

Whomever had trashed the place had a great time in the storage room. Bottles of shampoo, conditioners, permanent wave and relaxer solutions and hair coloring had been emptied all throughout the salon. With the liquids mixed into large pools, the walls had been splashed with it like a child's art project gone horribly wrong; the floor near the storage room was slick and slippery with it; and it had also been poured into two of the salon's air-conditioning units. Having emptied the storage room of its supplies, all of the shelving and bins in the room had been destroyed.

The shampoo and drying areas were hit the hardest. Someone had gleefully taken an ax to the chairs and walls in the drying room and had stopped up all six shampoo bowls before turning on the faucets. The work stations had been stripped of all portable hair dryers and flat irons, which were now submerged in water. The shampoo room was completely flooded and every single signature towel embroidered with _Take Five_ on it had been hacked to pieces and thrown into the pools of water on the floor.

Spray paint in black and red covered the delicate fabric covering the walls with filthy obscenities and lighted wall scones and ceiling fixtures had been smashed to pieces. Broken windows facing the side and back of the building on the first floor and broken miscellaneous furniture completed the destruction.

Tina walked over to wrap an arm around Fawn, her anger and frustration evident. "They must have been in here for hours doing this shit."

"I know this seems rather bad, and it is," Eli admitted as he approached Fawn. "But believe it or not, it could have been a hell of a lot worse."

Fawn flashed him an incredulous look. "How do you figure that anything could be worse than this?"

"Well, my deputy may not have been able to catch the perp, but he apparently scared him off before he got the chance to make it to the second floor." Eli smiled as the three women started babbling all at once.

"Oh my God! You mean upstairs is okay?" Tina nearly hollered with a look of relief on her face.

"Looked perfectly fine to me the last time I was up there. Had they started upstairs, it's unlikely the deputy would have spotted a flashlight through the second floor window, not from street level." Eli replied.

"Thank God for small miracles!" Fawn sighed as she plopped down on one of the mutilated client chairs with its stuffing guts hanging out.

"Ladies, I need to ask. Is it possible that the person or persons responsible are known to you?" Eli focused on the suddenly wide eyes of the three women.

"What do you mean by that?" Tig asked belligerently.

"I'm asking if they have any known enemies, Mr. Trager." Eli replied in exasperation. "People do have enemies, you know. Even those that don't wear patches. This level of destruction seems to be a bit more than just a couple of meth addicts gone wild. There's a method to this destruction and it seems personal. Can you think of anyone, like a disgruntled former employee or maybe a client who wasn't happy with the results?"

Fawn raised an eyebrow as she noted the Sherriff's rueful expression. "You sound like you've had direct experience with shit like that."

"Let's just say that I've seen how angry a woman can get when her hair ain't been done right. She's liable to do anything."

Fawn smiled wryly. "I hope you're not talking about Rita."

"No worries there, Ms. Trager. My wife loves coming to you." Eli smiled. "She was so excited about the shop's grand opening and all the extra business you're sending her way. She was very sorry to hear about it when I got the call at home, but I'm sure she'll stop by later to see if there's anything she can do."

"I really appreciate that, Lieutenant. As far as any disgruntled employees, we don't have any. And as for clients, I don't think so. I really can't think of anyone who would go to this length." Fawn replied.

"Really?" Eli said casually. "What about that little altercation you were involved in during the summer? We brought you and another woman in. Emily Duncan, if I remember correctly." The Sheriff prodded.

Fawn shook her head. "Highly unlikely. Last I heard, she relocated to Washington soon after, so maybe the theory of pissed off meth heads is our best bet."

"So how did they come in?" Filthy Phil asked as he kicked at the remains of a large live fern plant that had been smashed, the dirt and pot strewn all over the floor.

"They entered using the back door leading off into the alleyway that runs behind the buildings on this block. Your current alarm system is pretty primitive, but I'm guessing you knew that." Roosevelt replied.

"Yes," Fawn replied morosely. "Guess we should have done something about it sooner, but who would've thought that shit like this would happen in Charming." She bit her lip. "If you'll excuse me, I think I would like to see upstairs for myself." Eli nodded as Fawn got up from her seat and headed towards the stairs leading to the second floor with Lexie and Tina trailing behind her.

* * *

As Fawn, Tina, and Lexie made their way upstairs with Deputy Martinez, the Sheriff strolled over to face the Sons and addressed the SAMCRO VP. "Normally, I would have agreed with your lady, but I have to admit that I'm rethinking the 'meth addicts' theory. Anything's possible at this point, but I can't see a couple of tweakers disarming an alarm system, even one as ancient as we have here." Eli explained. "And it may look like chaos, but the level of destruction was methodical."

"Controlled chaos." Opie offered and Sheriff Roosevelt nodded.

"Destruction was the motive. I'd bet my badge on it." Eli replied. "A couple of addicts looking for property to boost would have taken whatever they could get their hands on to sell, not destroy it. The hair dryers and flat irons, even the hair products would have been of value to someone."

"What about punk kids looking to blow off some steam?" Tiki asked.

"Like I said, anything's possible at this point," The Sheriff replied and heaved a sigh at the roadblocks he already knew he'd encounter. "Which is why we have to visit the possibility here. Could this shit be some sort of retaliation because of the salon's connection to the Club?"

"Hold on one fuckin' minute!" Tig started angrily.

Roosevelt whipped around to face him. "Hey! Let's get real, Trager. Just last spring you almost had to kiss your ass good-bye thanks to a _botched hijacking_. I have it on good authority that the Cacuzza Family and their like-minded associates are fond of making shit fall off trucks and profiting from it. Is it possible that maybe instead of making a move against a Clubhouse full of _Harley enthusiasts_ , they decided to retaliate against an easier target? After all, I may not know from experience as I have no kids myself, but I have to imagine that seeing your daughter in pain must hurt as much if not more than getting shot in the ass."

"I wasn't shot in the ass!" Tig bellowed as Big Otto threw his arm up, keeping Tig from taking a step towards the Sheriff.

"It's just a thought." Eli shrugged his shoulders knowing that the hijacking story had been a line of bullshit fed to him by the Club via Tig Trager.

Opie's face was unreadable as he looked into the Sheriff's deep brown eyes. "It's not entirely impossible." He lied, knowing that the hijacking scenario had been created by Jax to take the heat off of Tig and the Club.

"Nah, man," Tig replied brusquely. "And you're barking up the wrong tree if you think Cacuzza had something to do with this or the hijacking. Not only is Jimmy a long-time friend of the Club's former president, _everyone_ knows SAMCRO protects its own. Anyone would have to be pretty stupid to come here to start shit with our women."

"Well, maybe not everyone thinks you guys are so tough after all." Roosevelt replied smoothly.

"My Club can handle its shit just fine, Lieutenant." Jackson Teller replied as he walked into the group.

It had taken the SAMCRO President a minute—actually more like ten—to convince his old lady that she needed to stay put with their kids while he checked on the situation with Fawn. Jolene was nothing if not persistently stubborn and even though Jax could understand her concern for her friend, he had to put his foot down. Now that he had finally made it down to the scene of the carnage, he wanted to find out what the hell happened and how it was going to impact his family and his Club.

"Somebody wanna clue me in here?" He all but demanded.

Opie and Tig quickly brought their President up-to-speed as Roosevelt watched.

 _It's like watching a wolf pack now that the alpha has arrived to take charge_ , Roosevelt marveled. As Jax Teller quickly absorbed the information, the Sheriff could almost see the wheels turning in his head. _Like he's already putting together a plan of attack._

And that was something Roosevelt couldn't allow to happen. It was only a matter of time before Mayor McCheese heard about the incident and decided to crawl up Eli's ass, taking permanent residence as he micromanaged the investigation. Roosevelt knew what his duties were and right now, in addition to finding the culprit or culprits responsible for the thrashing of a local business, his most important duty was keeping this incident from blowing back on the town.

Jax could see the silent rage that was barely checked behind his best friend's eyes. Tig, however, made no such gestures at hiding his anger and Jax wanted nothing more than to help both of his brothers get justice for Fawn. From what he could surmise, based on the information his officers had provided, it didn't sound like the Sheriff had any solid clues pointing the investigation in one direction or another. Jax could only hope that there had been some small, overlooked piece of evidence that the Club could use to their advantage. Judging by the looks on Opie's and Tig's faces, the only acceptable justice that would be allowed to prevail in resolving this matter would be a huge dose of outlaw justice.

Also not buying into the tweaker theory, Jax turned to face Roosevelt, his laser blue eyes focused on his target. "Your deputy had nothing else to share, like what type of cage was used as the getaway vehicle?" Jax questioned.

Thinking that it might be wiser to keep certain information to himself, Roosevelt nodded. "He did, and we have an APB out on the vehicle."

Jax quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the Sheriff to continue. When it looked like he didn't intend to, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "So what type of cage was it? Did he get a plate number?"

"No, no plate number." Eli replied and didn't continue.

Losing his patience, Tig huffed. "What's the big secret, man?! What type of fuckin' cage was it?!"

"C'mon, Sheriff," Big Otto started calmly. "This is Intel anyone with a police band radio has access to." He reasoned.

Sighing, Roosevelt shrugged his shoulders. "It was a relatively new, either Ford or GMC black pick-up. We're checking the DMV database for license plates of vehicles matching that description in Sanwa County. It's unlikely we'll find meth heads who can afford a truck like that, but it's always possible that it was stolen. That's all I have." Turning away from the group to head upstairs, the Sheriff missed the enraged look exchanged by the Club's top three officers.

A relatively new black pick up, Roosevelt had said.

Jax looked from the fierce green eyes of his lifelong best friend to the wild blue ones of his SAA and knew they were all thinking the same thing.

_Max-fuckin'-Ryder!_

* * *

After years of working as one of the best hairstylists in Seattle for the benefit of someone else, Fawn had been so close to her dream of being an entrepreneur that she could almost taste it. With Murphy's Law being as much a part of the process of converting Gina's Cut-N-Curl into a fashionable salon as anything else, she should have known that _anything that could go wrong would go wrong_.

After spending months and her entire life's savings on this project, overcoming obstacle after obstacle, Fawn felt defeated as she sat on one of the mutilated couches next to her partners in the reception area. The seemingly insurmountable task of restoring their salon to perfection once again might prove to be the blow that knocked Fawn on her ass and kept her there.

Rubbing her forehead wearily hoping to ward off the headache that was threatening, Fawn was desperately jonesing for a cup of black coffee and a hot meal. It had been nearly six hours since she had been dragged out of Opie's bed and thrust into this living nightmare. Her nerves were frayed and she was physically exhausted having used up whatever reserves of energy she had left because of the stress of the situation. The meeting they had just endured with their insurance claims adjuster had succeeded in completely wiping her out.

Allen Biacone owned and operated the insurance office just a few blocks up Main Street. He had heard about the break-in while enjoying the legendary Hale & Hearty Breakfast special at Nicky's Diner and immediately stopped by the salon to render his assistance. His office was the local franchise of the insurance company that had issued the policy insuring the new salon and whose main office was located in Stockton. It was times like these that Fawn realized how grateful she was to be living in a small town.

In Charming, unlike Seattle, everyone knew your name and business proprietors put great emphasis on providing the ultimate in customer service. After all, the same people putting money in your pocket were your neighbors, their children attended school with yours and their parents had been playing bingo together for decades. Although Fawn had yet to make an appearance down at the local Bingo Hall, she called Charming home and was a big part of the town's business community even if the salon had yet to open.

The morbidly obese man had shown up mid-morning as the partners were compiling a list of all of the damage and the repairs that would need to be made. After commiserating with the owners sympathetically, Allen pulled out a tablet and did a complete survey of the salon's damage, including taking numerous pictures of the destruction. When Tina questioned him as to when they could expect their claim to be processed and a check to cover for the repairs, Allen had been sympathetic, but not very optimistic.

"Once I prepare the claim forms for your signature, and get copies of the police report, I will submit your claim to the main office." Allen explained solemnly. "But even if I can get all that done by Monday, it will still take at least six to eight weeks before the claim is processed and you get your money."

"Oh my God, that can't happen." Lexie had implored. "We were scheduled to open next week."

"Is there anything you can do to push the claim through a little faster?" Fawn asked hopeful.

Allen had shrugged his massive shoulders. "The best I might be able to do is probably a month, but I can't really promise anything because the main office will want to do their own investigation." He warned as he saw the partners' eyes light up with hope. "I really want to do this for you as soon as possible. You ladies have pumped new life into Charming's business district with this renovation. I've been in constant meetings with other business owners to review their policies because they're thinking about revitalizing their stores as well. Believe me, I will do my best to push this through for you."

It was the best that he could offer and Fawn realized that they should be grateful, but it still hurt nonetheless. Now, as she sat with her partners, she realized that they really needed to talk about their next move.

It seemed that her friends were thinking along the same lines. "Well, we can't just sit on our asses waiting for the insurance company to come through for us." Tina said as she loosened her tight ponytail and ran her fingers through her mop of black curls. "We can't afford to wait two months to get the money we need to get this place up and running."

"No, we can't." Lexie affirmed as she rested her chin in her hands. "We've already given our girls two-weeks of paid vacation time. With no money coming in, we're gonna have to let them go."

Fawn frowned, hating the thought of losing Mary Ellen and Joanie and the new trainees they had lined up to start on Monday, four days before the grand opening. "And we still have our bank loan to make payments on and Oswald's final bills to settle." She added.

"Not to mention our own personal living expenses." Lexie retorted earning a woebegone look from Fawn.

"That settles it then." Tina said as she jumped up from the couch and looked down at the two women. "We'll just have to dig into the reserves I replenished when I bought into the partnership to cover the shit we need done like right now. And if we run out of money, the Club's willing to help us out and we're going to let them." She pointed a finger at Fawn. "Your Dad won't take no for an answer a second time and I know that Opie will put you over his knee if you lob off his offer to help as well."

"I know and you're right," Fawn said as she leaned back on the sofa. "I just hate having it come to that, that's all."

"I know you want to be independent, honey, but in light of what's happened here, you can't let pride hold you back from making that happen. We've worked too hard and have come too far to throw in the towel now." Tina encouraged. "I don't care if I don't close my eyes to sleep for the next two weeks, but I'm determined to get this place up and running in two weeks' time if it's the last thing I do."

Standing up, Fawn wrapped her arms around Tina in a huge embrace. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

"Every time you _let_ me help you." Tina shot back with a smile. Pulling away from Fawn to yank Lexie onto her feet, Tina took another good look around. "Okay, gals, we've got our work cut out for us here. First, we need to do what we can to clean up this mess. Then I'll call Oswald in order to get someone in here to give us a cost estimate for the repairs. Lexie, you need to get on the phone and place rush orders for replacement furniture and supplies. We paid cash, but a lot of vendors offered us credit. Take 'em up on their offer now, we'll deal with the bills later. Fawn, you'll tackle contacting the papers and local TV stations and put a hold on our advertisements. We can get Ellie to contact everyone on our guest list, as well as the caterers, and let them know the grand opening event has been temporarily postponed." Tina ticked off each issue to be dealt with on her fingers. "Once we get all that shit settled and the salon back on track, we'll come up with a new opening date. Then we need to—" She trailed off as her eyes widened in astonishment.

"What?" Fawn was close to panicking until she saw the massive smile spread across Tina's face.

"Looks like our cleaning crew has arrived." Tina said happily as she nudged her head towards the windows facing the street.

Turning at the same time, both Fawn and Lexie stared as they took in a number of familiar cars pulling to a stop in front of the shop. As Jolene, followed by Gemma, Ellie and the Teller kids exited the Teller Mobile slamming the doors behind them, Fawn gave a little war whoop as she danced on the balls of her booted feet.

As more old ladies spilled out of several other cars, Lexie let loose a squeal of excitement. Loaded down with boxes of cleaning supplies, mops, brooms, pails and other cleaning paraphernalia, the group marched through the salon's double doors to see the trio of owners bouncing up and down in their excitement.

"You bitches are an awesome sight for my sore fuckin' eyes!" Fawn enthused, but quickly found herself sniffling as she was engulfed into an embrace by both Jolene and Ellie. "I can't believe you're doing this."

"You'd think we'd let you tackle this shit all by yourselves?" Ellie demanded as she pulled away.

"We would have been here earlier," Jolene added. "Getting everyone coordinated is like herding cats. These damn heifers took a minute to get their shit together."

"It also took us a minute to throw some food together." Gemma said as she hugged Fawn next. "Can't expect to work these bitches to death without feeding them." She hugged Lexie and offered a cool nod to Tina who returned the gesture. "Where is Neeta's big ass anyway?"

"Bitch, you need to shut your yap." Neeta ordered as she pushed in a shopping cart loaded down with food. Mary Winston, Mary Ellen and Joanie followed with more food and a couple of Prospects, including Kenny (or Dirty Harry, as he insisted on being called nowadays), carrying a couple of folding tables. "Now tell me where we can set this shit up. I'm sure Fawn could use a cup of my strong black coffee and some vittles right about now."

Fawn ran up to Neeta and hugged her enthusiastically. "You have no idea how much I'm loving your big ass right about now!" She whispered with more tears in her eyes.

"Good, baby girl, 'cause after all the work I'm gonna put into helping you get this place back just like you want, I'm gonna need a full body treatment." Neeta retorted as she took in the mess. "Damn! Well, let's get to it. This place ain't gonna clean itself!"


	32. Take Five, Part II

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

It had already been a physically and emotionally draining day by the time the SAMCRO Cleaning Crew showed up at _Take Five_. By early-afternoon, the three partners were exhausted, but seeing the Teller-Morrow clan leading the charge of an army of old ladies she barely even knew had instantly inflated Fawn's flagging spirit and pumped her full of much-needed vitality and energy. To see the assembled group of complete strangers just a few months ago who now called themselves her family rally around her gave Fawn a sense of hope that everything would work itself out. How could it not with Jolene Teller and Gemma Morrow, the fiercest old ladies she had ever met, quickly taking over and assigning duties while Neeta corralled the three partners and fed them their first meal of the day? Fried chicken, warm potato salad, and strong black coffee had never tasted so good.

Several hours later, Fawn looked around the salon with a deep sense of relief as she noted the progress they had made.

Separating themselves into small groups, Jolene had worked with a team of old ladies in carefully clearing the site of broken glass and now-useless hair dryers and flat irons. Lexie and another group of women took on the arduous task of cleaning up the flooded shampoo room and the spilled bottles of hair product that had been emptied onto the floors as well as flung against the walls and ceiling.

By dinnertime, almost all of the debris of broken glass, shelving, storage containers, dirt, and empty bottles had been collected into large black bags and recycling bins and thrown into the back of Opie's pick-up truck, on loan to Harry in order to haul it all down to the commercial waste management company in Lodi. Harry, Abel, and a couple of Prospects, V-Lin and Rat Boy, had worked with Fawn to assess what furniture could be salvaged and dragging what was beyond repair outside to be dumped into the bed of the truck as well.

While keeping an eye on her two youngest grandchildren in the office upstairs, Tina, along with Ellie, made numerous phone calls to suppliers, plumbers and their construction foreman, who was expected to come in to assess the damage and provide estimates in a couple of hours. Tina had also done several telephone interviews with the _Charming Gazette_ , _Stockton News_ and several local pennysavers to get the word out on the situation and assure their readers that _Take Five_ was going to open regardless of the setback it had suffered.

Suddenly hearing her name called in a bright and cheery tone, Fawn turned to face the salon's open doors and ran over to hug Rita Roosevelt. The owner of _Stems and Bulbs_ had not come empty-handed as she hauled two huge vases of fall blooms on a four-wheeled cart.

"I thought you could use some cheering up." Rita said simply as she looked around. "My God, Fawn. It's a disaster! I'm so sorry."

"Hey, you should have seen it a few hours ago." Fawn pulled some loose tendrils of red hair behind her ear, leaving a smudge of dirt on her forehead. "Thank you for stopping by. The friendlier the faces, the better I feel."

"Girl, I couldn't believe it when Eli woke me up this morning to tell me what had happened." Rita commiserated.

 _Well, in actuality we had already been up_. _It's a damn good thing I wasn't ovulating_ , the florist thought a little grimly.

"What a fuckin' nightmare. With Eli busy on the investigation, I haven't had the chance to talk to him today. Any idea on who might be responsible?"

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing legit yet. Your husband is kicking around the idea that it might be some junkies looking to score quick cash. Apparently there's been a rash of robberies in Modesto."

Rita winced as Rat Boy carried out the remains of one of the large ferns. "Assholes!" She muttered angrily. "Did they get them all?"

"All four of them, and all those potted plants you did for the second floor, which I stupidly left in the employee lounge, were ripped to shreds too." Fawn replied.

"Well, don't worry about that," Rita declared. "I'll replace everything at no cost. Just pay for the delivery from Oakland." She offered.

"Rita, please, I can't accept that." Fawn shook her head. "You have a business to run too."

"You can accept it and you will. Just consider it an investment. I don't want you jacking up my hair when I finally get to come here." She cracked. "Look, we women business-owners need to stick together. You're going to make it through this." She said consolingly. "And look, I even come bearing a deposit on my investment."

Fawn walked over to the flowers. They were beautiful and exactly what she needed to brighten her mood. "One would have been great, but two? It's too much, Rita."

"Oh, believe me, girl. I'm only giving you one. The other one is a gift from someone else." Rita smirked as she pointed to the little white envelope tucked into one of the arrangements. "Take a look."

Giving a little girly squeal, which was heard by a number of the working women, Fawn drew a crowd as she opened the envelope.

"Aw shit." Fawn whispered, her heart tightening in her chest.

"Who's it from, girl?" Mary Ellen piped in as she propped herself up against a broom. "I hope it's some love porn. I could use a hit to lift my spirits." She remarked candidly, provoking a laugh out of the group of women surrounding Fawn.

"I bet it's from Dad." Ellie pressed as she used the back of her hand to swipe the sweat from her brow, relishing the cool breeze courtesy of the cross ventilation provided by the open front and back doors.

"That would be a safe bet, I see." Jolene teased as Fawn's face turned a delicate shade of pink as she read the note signed by her Redwood. "So c'mon and share, heifer. What does Sasquatch have to say? I'd like to know if anyone's as good as my old man at writing love porn." Her eyes glowed wickedly.

"Wow! Now that's something I'd love to read." Joanie sighed dreamily. "Your old man's hot!" She blurted as Jolene narrowed her eyes at her.

"Uh-oh," Ellie said, trying to suppress a giggle. "In case you didn't get the memo, Joanie, sometimes those thoughts are better left unsaid around Aunt Jo."

"And unthunk too, for that matter." Jolene added with a raised eyebrow. "Can't really blame ya, though. He is a hottie, but now it's time for Fawn to share." She insisted.

"Uh, no it's not." Fawn replied, tucking the small card into its envelope and shoving it into her cleavage. "The only thing you heifers are getting out of me is my undying gratitude. I—" She suddenly stopped to moisten her lips as she felt herself get emotional and tried to quickly gather herself. "We really, really appreciate everything everyone has done for us today."

"Hey, I just wanna know if I'm getting hooked up with a full spa treatment like Neeta over there." Gemma chimed in, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Well, enough of this sentimental bullshit," Neeta quickly cut in. "It's been a long day, so let's finish up and call it a wrap for today. Come on now, git." She promptly shooed everyone away so they could finish up their tasks and turned to march back to the food table where Mary Winston was relaxing.

"She's right," Jolene replied as she looped her arm through Fawn's. "It has been a long day for you. You look in need of a long and relaxing hot shower and a little rest. Trust me, you're gonna need both before meeting up with Opie again. Those flowers and that smut he wrote were probably just to soften you up."

Fawn quirked her eyebrow at her. "What do you know?" She demanded suspiciously.

The SAMCRO Queen rolled her eyes as she realized that Fawn still had so much to learn. "Officially, I don't know shit. Unofficially, I know Jax and Ope and those two are definitely cut from the same cloth. You can best believe that at this moment there's a group of patches sitting around a Redwood table trying to figure out who the fuck did this and how they're going to make them pay." Jolene explained. "And—"

"And?"

"And plotting on how to put a certain fiery redhead on lockdown with as little resistance as possible."

* * *

"Yo man, it's about fuckin' time!" Tig said brusquely as he stood up, slamming his shot glass on the bar.

"Finally!" Opie growled as he followed suit, his eyes boring in on the Club's Intelligence Officer as he walked into the Clubhouse. Standing to his full height of 6'6, the SAMCRO VP bore down on his brother with purposeful intent. "What did you find out?"

Juice held up both hands warily as he eyed the two men. Having been tasked to beat the street for Intel by his President, Juice had spent the better part of the day sniffing down clues regarding the Club's newest adversary. "Hey, isn't it customary to kill the messenger _after_ he's delivered the message? Sheesh!"

"Then get your ass to the table and fill us in on some shit," Tig retorted. "Or are you gonna force me to rape it outta ya?"

"Uh, I'll pass?" Juice winced. Walking between the two massive patches, he tossed his prepay into the cigar box on the bar top and headed into the Chapel, taking his place at the table.

It would be an understatement to say that a fair number of the patches in the mother charter were none too happy about at what had happened to Fawn's salon. Generally speaking, even though the art of beauty and fine grooming would normally not be in the wheelhouse of a bunch of hardcore bikers, they could understand what it meant to have one's territory desecrated. While the Club had no financial interest in or obligation to the salon, one of its owners was not only the daughter but also the old lady of two of the most powerful SAMCRO patches. That being the case, attacking the salon had been as good as attacking the inner sanctum of the MC and would not be tolerated.

For almost 40 years, the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original had taken upon itself the role as the town's protector. Not bound by a duty to uphold the law like the police, the Sons instead had broken every law imaginable in an effort to rid Charming of crime. _No one_ dealt drugs or peddled pussy within its borders, women and children could feel safe walking the streets at night, and quality of life issues were virtually non-existent. Having a business with close ties to the Club targeted in such a manner was not only a stain on the Club's reputation for keeping the town safe, but a slap in its face as well.

For Tig Trager and Opie Winston, however, the stakes were much higher. Seeing the devastation and defeat in Fawn's eyes had ripped their hearts to shreds. Tig knew that staying sober was an everyday struggle and he feared that the stress of what had happened would weaken Fawn in her resolve to stay clean. Opie, on the other hand, had pledged to protect Fawn on the night she agreed to wear his crow. He had already failed one old lady in that regard and he would lay his life down first before he let that happen again.

Both men had felt powerless in their rage until Sheriff Roosevelt had unwittingly delivered the Intel that pointed them in the right direction. Even before the group of bikers gathered around the Redwood table, their mission had already been set. The two men were hell-bent on killing Max Ryder. They just had to find him first.

Slamming the gavel down to call the meeting to order, Jax Teller eyed his Intelligence Officer as he lit a cigarette. "Brother, what were you able to dig up on this asshole?"

"I started by reaching out to SAMTAC's Intel Officer, Bowie." Juice started. "He was able to get into the DMV's database and pulled the info on the shithead's cage. A top of the line black GMC truck from the current model year is registered to a Maxim Richard Ryder and it bears license plate number ROADIE1. Asswipe is 34 and lives in a pretty pricey condo in one of Seattle's more upscale bohemian neighborhoods. He's got an arrest record, but nothing too serious. Bar fights, disturbing the peace, resisting arrest. He currently works as a music promoter-slash-stage manager, but according to what Bowie pulled together, he's also a jack of all trades—tattoo artist, mechanic, bouncer, and he even worked as a locksmith for a security company."

"Well, there you go," Happy commented. "Would explain how he was able to break into the shop."

Juice nodded, and then continued. "Donut had a couple of brothers track down some of Max's associates. According to what they found out, he's been on the road an average of eight months a year for the last four or five years. He earns a generous living and is considered one of the best in the industry. He can be a little arrogant, but for the most part, everyone seems to think he's a great guy."

"Sure he is," Tig said snidely. "Except when he gets dumped on his ass by my kid and decides to teach her a lesson by tearing her shit up."

"That's the thing," Juice started with a slight head shake. "I spoke to Donut myself and he thinks we may be off base with this one. He's had some ink done by Max and has known him for a few years now. Donut said this shit don't sound like the guy he knows. He said Max can and does get pussy anywhere and anytime and that it's unlikely he'd go through that much trouble for it."

Opie angrily slammed his fist on the table, making the ashtray in front of Jax bounce as his sudden outburst took several of his brothers by surprise. "First off, Fawn isn't fuckin' pussy, so you better watch your mouth, brother!" He thundered at Juice. "Second, Donut is way the fuck off target with his read on this piece of shit. If he doesn't think so, then maybe he should put his kutte where his fuckin' mouth is." He said coldly, his anger evident.

"Ope," Big Otto started, hoping to diffuse the situation before any of his brothers came to blows. "I'm sorry, bro. I'm feeling a little responsible here. I should have never stopped you from taking care of your business." He said as he nursed a glass whiskey. "It's just that your old lady was all twisted up with worry. Besides, she kicked me in the knee, but I think she was aiming for my junk."

Opie allowed himself a small smile as chuckles floated around the room, cutting the tension. "Ain't your fault, bro. Big Red can be a handful." He commiserated. "What I should have done was make sure dickhead never made it back to his truck after his parting shot at Fawn."

"Dat's right, brutha," Chibs said gruffly. "He did as good as say the lass would regret decidin' to stay wit you in Charming. We all heard it, which puts Donut's 'good-guy' theory to bed as far as I'm concerned." With a lot of head bobbing around the table, it was clear that his brothers agreed with the Scot.

"He barely walked out of here on his own." Jax stated. "Think he would have been in any condition just three days later to do the damage done to the salon? After the beating you put on him, I can't see him doing that shit all on his own."

"I could handle that shit," Happy said, his gravelly voice hard. "Especially if I had enough time and I'm not nearly as bulked up as that meathead."

"Yeah, and who knows how long he was at it before Bozo the Sheriff spotted him." Filthy Phil added before knocking back a shot of Jack.

"Instead of tip-toeing through the fuckin' tulips," Tig started, exasperated. "Why don't we just track the motherfucker down and find out the good old-fashioned way? We beat it out of him." His voice brooked no argument.

"I hear that!" Happy called out. "I'll even whip out my old bag of tricks and lend a helping hand."

"I won't need any help in getting the truth out of this prick once we find him." Opie said grittily.

"That might be a problem, finding him that is." Juice said slowly.

"What the fuck are you talking about now, shithead?!" Tig practically bellowed.

 _I really hate being the fuckin' messenger_ , Juice thought miserably. _At this rate, I won't even get a nice SAMCRO coffin 'cause you can't fit that shit into a shallow grave_.

"His condo is sitting empty. Has been for a while, actually. According to one his associates, he's about ready to leave the country for some big tour." Juice explained soberly.

"Shit! I forgot about that." Opie growled. The VP quickly related to his brothers that Max had returned to Charming with the intention of getting Fawn to join him on a five-month tour starting in less than two weeks.

"So he's getting ready to leave the country then?" Jax blew a trail of blue smoke into the air.

"Yeah, I'd say we have four, five days at most to track him down before he's out of our reach." Juice confirmed.

"Shit!" Tig slammed his fist on the table. "We gotta find him."

Jax nodded as he flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray in front of him. "How? I'm open to suggestions, brother."

"There are still people in the industry we can talk to." Juice suggested. "Maybe someone knows what his routine is before leaving on tour for extended periods of time."

"Why waste time on all that shit?" Tig waved Juice away. "We already have someone that probably knows him better than the douchebag knows himself."

"No." Opie said gruffly, leaving no room for argument. "We're leaving Fawn out of this. She's been through enough already. She doesn't need to know just what a scumbag this fuckin' piece of shit actually is."

Jax shook his head, his brow furrowed. "You sure about that, bro? Could save us a lot of leg work."

"I'll do whatever leg work is necessary myself if it means not seeing my old lady cry again over this shit." Opie replied sternly. "No one outside this room is to know we're looking into Max as a suspect. Understood?" His fierce green eyes slowly ran around the table to get everyone's consent.

"Ope's right," Tig chimed in after quickly reevaluating the situation and what would happen to Max once they caught up with him. "We bring her in on this, she's gonna ask questions and the less Fawnzy knows, the better." He said. Looking straight at Opie, he added. "You may be her old man now, but I'll always be her daddy. I get first crack at that shithead."

_Fuck that shit! Fawn will always be mine and mine alone to protect._

"I'll take your request under consideration." Opie lied, his face betraying nothing.

Jax smirked as he looked from his VP to his SAA. "Fine, it's agreed then. We're unleashing two psychopaths on this asshole, but first and foremost, we need to protect Fawn and the salon."

"I've already sent the Prospects down there to help with the clean up." Opie replied. "The plan is to have a Prospect down there 24/7, just in case the asshole decides to revisit the scene of the crime."

"Fawnzy ain't gonna be too happy having a kutte hanging around all the time." Tig noted.

"Tough shit." Opie retorted. "Fawn's gonna have to fall in line and take her orders just like everybody else."

"Good luck with that, bro." Jax muttered. "Meeting adjourned." He announced, slamming the gavel down.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, woman!" Tig groaned, lifting his head from the pillow, his narrowed eyes connecting with Tina's, who was nestled comfortably on her knees between his legs near the foot of the bed. With what he knew was a wicked grin making her vivid green eyes sparkle, Tina proceeded to swallow him whole again. A grunt escaped Tig as her throat closed around him tightly.

Tig wasn't a small man and how she managed not to choke on his length and girth he had no clue, but God bless her. Since first bedding her the night of Big Otto's party, Tig had made sure to not let a day go by if he could help it without a blowjob from Tina Giamatti. She was probably the best he'd ever had. She never got tired and could go on and on for however long it took and she never complained either. He was especially proud of her ability to handle his manic thrusting, like now, without gagging.

The bitches he was used to usually end up using their hands more than anything, taking just the tip of his cock into their mouths and sucking on it like a damn lollipop. It eventually got the job done, but with Tina, he had to practice a lot of self-control to keep himself from unexpectedly drowning her with his cum. Not that Tina was a spitter because she was definitely a swallower, but he liked to give her fair warning nonetheless and sometimes he preferred finishing inside her anyway. Her throat was tight, but her pussy was tighter.

Tig wasn't ever much on reciprocating orally. At least not with the dirty skanks that hung around the Clubhouse. After all, he knew where they had been and as much as he loved his brothers, the term "dirty bikers" existed for a reason. But with Tina, shit, he could go down on her forever. She was completely hairless and smooth, her outer lips tantalizingly plump and her inner ones like velvety petals, all of her pink and pretty. He loved making her come over and over again with his mouth, tongue, teeth and fingers until she couldn't take it anymore and tried pushing him away. He'd hang on though, eating her sweet pussy until she begged him to stop and just fuck her.

Watching her work him with only her mouth, her beautiful lips wrapped solidly around him and her fingernails digging into his hips, Tig was precariously close to begging her to just stop and fuck him as well. Trying to keep the raw need for her out of his voice, he preemptively cleared his throat before calling her to him.

"Come 'ere, doll." He croaked, damning himself for wanting her so much, sure that she could hear it in his words. Using one of her dainty hands to hold him at the base of his cock, Tina slowly withdrew him from her mouth, letting him go with a loud popping of her lips. Using the back of her free hand to slowly and delicately wipe the drool from her mouth, Tig knew from the lusty look in her eyes that further instructions were unnecessary, but he said the words anyway. "Come ride me, baby. Make me your bitch."

Her pretty little laugh tinkled around her softly-lit bedroom as she did a slow crawl over his legs and thighs. With her knees on either side of him on the bed, Tina straddled Tig as his jutting erection sought the center of her heat.

"So impatient," Tina murmured as she trailed kisses from his chest, up his neck, to his mouth. Kissing him sweetly, almost demurely, Tina suddenly pulled away as Tig tried to slip her the tongue. "Tsk-tsk." She chastised, giggling as Tig cut loose with a string of curses wrapped in a long, drawn out groan.

"You're killing me here, doll." He moaned. He could feel her moist cleft teasing the head of his cock as she just barely rocked her hips over him.

Tina smiled down at Tig prettily as he continued to grimace up at her. "Who's in charge right now?" She teased, lightly running her fingers through his wild and curly hair.

"It sure as shit ain't me." Tig started, his head nudging at her hand, eager for her touch. "If I could I'd have your ankles pinned to the bed by your head as I pounded you through the mattress." He growled at her.

It sounded like a threat, but Tina knew better and chuckled. "Maybe next time, Tigger, but right now," She reached between her legs and guided him to her entrance. "I have a biker to ride." Pushing herself down, Tina snapped her eyes shut tightly and cried out. She had never been with a man that could fill her like Tig Trager could. "Oh my God." She moaned, sitting still and waiting for her body to stretch and accommodate all of him.

Pushing her hair back and away from her face, Tina let her hands fall to her breasts as Tig bucked his hips once. Squeezing her nipples tight with her eyes still closed, Tina was about to start begging when Tig bucked once more and this time, she felt herself expand in such a manner that allowed her to sheath him completely like a hand in a glove. They let out a collective groan as their bodies melded together into one.

"Mmmm," Tina let her head fall back as she alternated between rocking, grinding, and bouncing her slender hips.

Tig was grunting, practically drawing blood as he bit down on his bottom lip. Lying on his back, he watched her control their rhythm, her beautiful and firm tits a feast for his eyes as they bounced gently. Considering the life Tina had lived before as Valentina Robles, all he could do was marvel at the perfection of her body every time he got to see her in all her glory. If Tina was in her early 50s, then 50 must be the new 30 because her body was phenomenal.

Her large round breasts were perky, her stomach and thighs tight and her skin flawless and unblemished. Tina had mentioned having a face lift a while back, but claimed that she kept her body in top form with diet and exercise. Whether it was the result of plastic surgery or hours slaving away in a gym, more power to her because Tina Giamatti was hotter and tighter than a lot of the croweaters down at the Clubhouse half her age.

Suddenly, Tig could feel her muscles contracting around him as she whimpered. Soon, Tina was screaming out loud as her orgasm rocked her through her core. Leaning forward to breathlessly kiss Tig, Tina continued moving her hips up and down, his cock now slick with her juices as it slid in and out. Tig could still feel what was left of her climax, tiny tremors vibrating over his sensitive flesh. He wanted to come, he needed to come while he could still feel her pulsating around him.

"Hang on, babe." Tig growled. Pushing herself up, Tina grabbed and squeezed her breasts as he feverishly bucked his hips upwards.

The manic sound of flesh slapping on flesh inflamed him as Tig imagined the delicate, ivory skin of her thighs and buttocks reddening with his pounding. Tina was moaning softly, her eyes closed as she threw her head back again and allowed herself to bounce uncontrollably as Tig continued pushing himself in and out of her slick folds. He could feel her muscles tightening around him again as the friction caused by the head of his cock hitting her g-spot soon had Tina coming undone again. Only this time, Tig roared as came right along with her. He could feel his release pumping hot and furiously into her as his heart beat a staccato beat.

"Shit," Tig said hoarsely, his heart pounding so fast and hard he thought it would burst in his chest. "I think I'm having a heart attack!" Looking up at the sexy, yet flushed woman sitting astride him, the SAA grinned. The well-sated look on her face was that of a woman who was thoroughly enjoying the afterglow of a great fuck.

"Hey, but what a way to go." Tina purred as she extended her arms above her head and arched her back for a good stretch. "Aren't I worth dying for?" She grinned at him saucily, her hair falling around her face in big, bouncy curls.

"Shit, baby, you know I ain't got no complaints." He smiled at her. "I just think that sending my ass to St. Thomas with chest pains won't endear you much to Fawnzy, no matter how much she loves ya."

Tina snorted with laughter as she ran her hands over Tig's chest slick with sweat. "Oh no, we can't have that happening now on top of everything else. The poor thing is still trying to deal with the fact that I've made you my boy toy."

"Boy?! What boy?" Tig managed to reach up just far enough to take a little nibble of her plump pink nipple. "This here is all man, baby." He bit into her nipple again.

"Mmmm, don't I know it." Tina sighed with contentment as a little trickle of desire shot through her from his ministrations.

Tina had been pretty sure that allowing the SAMCRO SAA into her bed would probably end up in her top ten of bad decisions, but so far she honestly couldn't say she had any regrets. Although at first Tina had felt more than just a pang of guilt for embarking on a sexual relationship with her best friend's father, there was something undeniably sexy about the crazy-haired blue-eyed biker that rendered her common sense useless.

 _And the freaky bastard knows it too_ , Tina thought with a smile as she looked down at the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Come 'ere." Tig invited with a wink. Moving to release her hold on his somehow still-hard dick, Tina was about to lay next to him when she saw him roll his eyes in mock exasperation. "Ain't you forgetting something, doll?"

Tina's brow furrowed, unsure what he was getting at when he shook one arm. "Oh shit!" She giggled. "I guess I should untie you now, huh?"

"I ain't complaining, but it's just not the same without an erection." He replied wryly.

Grinning, Tina stretched up to loosen the long velvet tie-backs from the bed posts before untying them from around Tig's wrists. Dropping the red ties on the floor by the bed, Tina plopped down next to Tig. "Better?"

Tig did a little stretching of his own before pulling the woman close to him. "Much better. I was starting to think you were going to keep me trussed up all night."

"Tempting," Tina drawled as she used one of her long French-manicured fingernails to draw circles around one of his nipples. "But I really do enjoy when you get to use your hands and we do have some catching up to do after being so rudely interrupted this morning."

"How you dealing with that, doll? Really?" Tig queried as he played with her hair. "I know I was kinda focused on Fawnzy—"

Tina reached up and dropped a kiss on his lips. "Hey, no worries here. That's exactly where you needed to be focused on." She sighed. "I hurt so much for her today."

"Yeah, but she wasn't alone, T. I know how much you care for that shit too, so don't try to make out like you weren't hit hard. I got eyes, ya know."

"It was hard." Tina admitted. "The girls invested their entire life savings and we all put our hearts and souls into the salon. To have somebody so callously shit all over it, well, I just don't have the words."

"I kinda feel like the Club dropped the ball on this one," Tig started, making the conscious effort not to mention Max Ryder. "We knew that the shop's alarm system was shit, but until everything is up and running like it should be, the Club's got a handle on security issues."

"Is that why poor Kenny's spending the night in the salon?" Tina asked.

"Dirty Harry," Tig corrected lightly. "And yeah, until further notice, the Prospects are being tasked with watching over the salon."

_It was late that evening when SAMCRO's top three officers had shown up at the salon. By then, it had been hours since Jolene had sent Gemma, Neeta and Ellie home with her kids and the last of the old ladies were getting ready to leave. The army of women had made a substantial dent in clearing away much of the debris, but it was obvious that there was still a lot of work to be done._

_After an extremely long day, Jolene and Fawn had looked at each other and heaved a collective sigh of relief as they heard the comforting roar of Harleys ripping down Main Street. Tina had made her way from upstairs just in time to see Fawn getting mauled by her old man as the Club President had her daughter practically pinned to a wall as he treated Jolene to the same kind of greeting. Tig, looking a little empty-handed didn't stay that way for long as Tina greeted him with a smile and he swept her into his arms, his lips locking down on hers._

_Suddenly, the gagging noise coming from behind them pulled Tina out of her daze. Letting her go, Tig and Tina turned around to see Fawn rolling her eyes at them. "Please, I've only barely managed not to hurl today. If you insist on polishing each other's tonsils, can you please go get a room somewhere?"_

" _Uh, can I second that motion?" Jolene threw her hand up as she ruefully eyed her old man's SAA, who was currently squeezing her birth mother's ass with no little amount of enthusiasm. Seeing Tina, whose face was so similar to her own in the arms of Tig Trager was quite unsettling for the SAMCRO Queen. Looking at Jax and noting the rather odd expression on his face, she realized that he was probably feeling her pain too._

_Tig grinned as he watched the identical expression on the faces of both young women. "Sure thing, Fawnzy. I ain't picky. Any room upstairs will do." He teased. Ignoring his daughter's groan, Tig grinned as he took in the salon. "This shit looks better already."_

" _It does, doesn't it?" Tina beamed. "We couldn't have gotten this far without all the help. Jolene really rallied the troops."_

_Resting in the crook of her old man's arm, the SAMCRO Queen grinned. "Everybody really pulled together. I think that another couple of days will have the worst of the mess gone. Having the Prospects on hand was a really big help too."_

" _I'm glad to hear that," Opie advised. "Because, going forward, they'll be 'on hand' on a regular basis."_

" _What are you saying, baby?" Fawn queried in a puzzled tone. She didn't notice the expression of commiseration on Jolene Teller's face, not that it would have helped._

" _What I'm saying," the SAMCRO VP said in his customary quiet baritone as he eyed his old lady. "Is that until further notice, there will be a Prospect on site to watch over my old lady, her partners and the salon 24/7."_

" _What? The? Fuck?" Fawn sputtered, shaking her head in disbelief._

" _I think you heard me, babe." Opie replied. "It's gonna take a minute before the place is fixed to the point where Juice and his crew can install the new security system. Until that happens, none of you will be here without a Prospect."_

" _Whoa! Hold on just one damn second—" Fawn started heatedly._

" _Fawnzy," Her father interrupted. "This is what your old man wants and it's how it's gonna be. Don't go jerking his chain any more than I know you already do."_

" _Dad! Whose fuckin' side are you on?!"_

" _He's on my side and all we both want is to keep you safe, so there's no point in ripping into my brother, Fawn." Opie retorted in a quiet and uncompromising tone. "Whoever did this got away and, for all we know, they might decide to come back and finish what they started. Leaving you unprotected makes you vulnerable and I don't want you, or Tina or Lexie getting hurt, so for my peace of mind and because I said so, you're not fighting me on this. Agreed?" Reaching out, Opie used a large index finger to tip Fawn's chin up, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes._

_Girl, you better do yourself a favor and listen to your old man, inner-Fawn advised. You've had enough drama for one day._

_Seeing his eyes shooting green fire at her, Fawn realized that his determination to get his own way would not to be denied and finally caved under the weight of his stare. "Okay. Whatever you say, dear." She huffed._

_Opie felt the corner of his mouth tug into probably his first smile of the day. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"_

_Fawn glared up at him. "You really want me to answer that, Redwood?"_

" _Not if he's smart." Jax volunteered cheekily, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from his old lady. Quickly turning on his wife, Jax picked up a squealing Jolene and threw her over his shoulder._

_Knowing a good idea when he saw one, Opie threatened to carry Fawn out as well if she didn't close up shop for the night. Almost dead on her feet, Fawn was tempted to let the big bully do just that. Instead, she and Tina locked up before the three couples went their separate ways, leaving Harry behind to cover the first watch until 4:00 a.m._

"I'm sure it must have been fatigue setting in, but I'm glad Fawnzy didn't fight Ope on letting the Club handle the salon's security for the time being." Tig remarked. "I was prepared for her to go ape-shit."

"Fawn's a reasonable girl—" Tina started, only to be interrupted by a rude snort from Tig. Tina lifted her head to give him the eye. "She is," Tina insisted. "Besides, I think it was all in the delivery and Opie just has a way about him. Fawn knows that his need to protect her comes from a place in his heart that belongs only to her."

Tig was rolling his eyes. "I never would have pegged you for the romance novel-type, T. My guess would have been that the VP has some serious dick game going on that keeps his old lady's mouth in check."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Tina laughed. "I'm sure Fawn has no complaints in that department, but I can attest to the fact that although incredible, mind-blowing sex is great, it's not everything."

"Oh really?" Tig turned his head to give Tina a quizzical look. "For some people it's the only thing. What makes you say something like that?"

"Experience." She replied simply. "I mean, let's not be coy, Tig. I'm sure you know all about my life before I got clean."

"Yeah," Tig said softly. "I do."

"Well, I _was_ one of those people and sex was a big part of who I was back then. I placed a lot of importance on getting it and making sure it was better than good. The men I was with were very like-minded, but didn't treat me well at all." Tina explained, her bright green eyes softening as her brain shifted gears. "Until I met my husband." She said quietly.

Lying back on the large king-size bed with Tina cradled in his arms, Tig contemplated the several directions this conversation could go in and in his mind none of them were good. Besides, Tig Trager wasn't much of a talker, especially after being so awesomely laid, so he was shocked as shit when his mouth opened and he heard himself say, "What was your old man like? I mean, Fawnzy told me he was a pretty good guy to ya."

"Yes, he was. And I loved Frank like I had never loved anyone in my life." Tina said sincerely. "The old me—Valentina—probably would have bedded him once, maybe twice and then kicked him to the curb. She never would have given him a chance because Frank was what you would call a bit straight-laced."

"What, is that a nice way of saying he was a dud in the sack?" Tig asked as Tina rolled her eyes.

"He wasn't a dud." She defended righteously. "Frank was the epitome of a romantic lover. I was just a little more advanced than him, that's all."

Tig nodded knowingly. "Poor guy couldn't keep up with you, could he?"

Tina tweaked his nipple, twisting a pinch-full of chest hair, causing Tig to yelp. "We had a _normal_ sex life, okay? It was nice, just a little plain vanilla. My point is—Oh forget it! I don't know what my point is anymore." Tina huffed.

Tig laughed as he easily pulled her slender body onto his. Warm flesh against warm flesh, he kissed her deeply before snuggling her head into the crook of his neck. "Point is he was nothing like me, huh?" He asked quietly.

Contemplating a response, Tina was quiet for close to a minute before speaking again. "In some ways, maybe he was. Frank was big on family. He had no kids of his own, but he loved Fawn like a daughter and he would do anything to protect us and keep us happy. Other than that, no, but I'm probably nothing like Fawn's mother either."

"Thank God!" Tig exclaimed as his hand gently caressed her naked back. "I hate that bitch! That gash is fuckin' nuts."

Tina giggled. _Like father, like daughter_. "Seems like you and Fawn have compared notes, huh?" She teased and Tig laughed. "I've heard a lot about Colleen, but I've never met her."

"And for your sake, I hope you never do." Tig replied. "I'm sure she'd hate you on the spot."

Lifting her head, Tina quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why would you say that?"

"Because she would!" Tig replied as a matter of fact. "I mean, you're like a mother to Fawnzy. Coll' was never the nurturing kind, but she still hated anyone that had a better relationship with the girls than she did." He explained.

"Is that why she hates you?" Tina asked bluntly. "Because you have a better relationship with your daughter than she does?"

Tig cocked his head to the side and shrugged his shoulder. "Hey, no one's ever gonna pin a Father-of-the-Year blue ribbon on me. I know I was a pretty shitty father to my kids—"

"Fawn doesn't seem to think so." Tina interjected. "I mean, I know she likes to bust your balls and call you names, but she tells me that's just how the Tragers show affection."

Tig felt a little stirring of pride in his gut. It was nice to know that he had managed to redeem himself in the eyes of his youngest daughter, but him fixing shit now didn't make up for years of neglect. "I guess I'm a lucky man then, T. I don't deserve shit. Fawnzy didn't exactly win first prize in the Parent Lottery, but at least Colleen was always around for Fawn and Dawn, whether they wanted her to be or not."

"From what I understand," Tina started cautiously. "Colleen was the one that refused to move to Charming."

"Yeah," Tig responded thoughtfully. "I tried getting her to come. I even bought a house, but she went for a visit to see her folks in Oregon and never looked back. After that, I barely saw my kids. If I was lucky, maybe once or twice a year."

"You had a right to see them, Tig." Tina said emphatically. "Did you ever consider asking for custody, at least part of the time?"

Tig's eyes narrowed as he looked away, his clear blue eyes staring in the distance as if he was reliving a moment in time. "Nah, I couldn't do that. Like I said, that gash is crazy and it would have been too risky."

Pushing herself off of Tig, Tina sat up on the bed and looked down at the man lying by her side. "Risky? In what way?" She queried.

Tig shook his head, cursing his big mouth. "Nah, just forget it, doll. Come 'ere." He coaxed, but Tina wasn't budging.

"Tell me, Tig. I know you love your girls, so there has to be a reason why you didn't push for more time with them. Does Fawn know what it is because if not, she should, don't you think? I mean it's not fair that you're treated like the bad guy when Colleen was the one keeping you from them. Tell me." She insisted quietly.

The SAA sighed deeply before sitting. Lately, it seemed like there was more and more shit he couldn't keep to himself whenever he was around Tina. "Look, you gotta promise me you won't repeat this to anyone, especially my kid. Can you do that for me, doll?"

Tina nodded. "Yes, of course." She held her breath.

"When Colleen refused to make the move to Charming, I tracked her down at her parents' place. It got ugly real fast. She wouldn't let me see the girls and said some truly heinous shit." Tig paused and then sighed again. "Coll' said that if I tried forcing her to move to Charming, she would kill the girls and then herself." He said quietly.

For a moment, the room was deathly quiet. "Oh my God, Tig." Tina said as she reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm so, so sorry." She wet her suddenly-dry lips. "Do you really think she was capable—"

"Of doing it?" Tig finished and nodded. "To this day it still chills me to the bone the look in her eyes. She looked like a wounded animal trying to fend off a predator. Colleen was desperate and she hated me. Can't really blame her 'cause I was a shitty old man too, but for probably the first time in my life I was scared shitless. I lost my shit, though, and smacked her around a little, but I still walked away and left my girls with a mother who threatened to kill them if I made her unhappy. I really had no choice but to stay away. That selfish cunt is lucky I didn't kill her on the spot."

Hearing what Fawn's mother had threatened to do to her own children went a long way in figuring out just what kind of woman Fawn had grown up with. Was it any wonder that Fawn had fallen by the wayside as a teenager or that their mother/daughter relationship was virtually non-existent?

_Colleen and I were similar in nature. Even though I'd love to beat the woman within an inch of her life, I was as just as bad, if not worse, to my own daughter._

Tina shifted onto her knees behind him. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she gently caressed his chest. "And you never told Fawn the truth?"

Tig shook his head. "I thought about it when she first came to Charming, but after we cleared the air between us, it didn't seem right dropping that shit on her now. At least she had one parent around."

"Having a parent around doesn't mean shit if it's not the right one. Believe me, Tig. I know from personal experience."

"Yeah, you're right, doll, but it doesn't make sense telling her now. I know Fawnzy. She'll cut Colleen out of her life like a cancer. A girl still needs her mother. You feel me?"

"I feel you." Moving around him, Tina climbed onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Pulling him to her, she gave him a gentle kiss. "You are one crazy son of a bitch, Tig Trager, but don't let anyone ever tell you you're not a good man or a good father."


	33. The Game Changer

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

It was days like these that had Fawn questioning the wisdom of having quit smoking all those years ago. It was almost lunch time and in addition to the two blueberry muffins she had already inhaled with her ten o'clock cup of coffee, Fawn was now eyeing the banana-nut loaf in the basket brimming with homemade baked goods courtesy of Bobby Elvis. She had to walk away, and fast, or she would end up convincing herself that she needed five helpings of fruit and veggies a day and end up eating half the loaf by herself.

 _Damn bossy outlaw bikers!_ Fawn thought grumpily. Not a fan of taking orders from anyone, she was particularly peeved about having to take them from her old man and in her own salon to boot!

Turning away from the basket of doom when it came to her abs and ass, the stylist crossed her arms over her chest and looked around the salon. With a near-snarl on her face, Fawn eyed the giant Prospect currently hauling boxes and bags of garbage out the back door to dump in the large dumpster in the alleyway.

It had been several days since _Take Five_ had been vandalized and the shop was in the final stages of clean up. Fawn and her partners were grateful for all the help they had received over the weekend, but with the start of the new week, their cleaning crew had dwindled significantly, as the old ladies of SAMCRO returned to their familial duties and respective jobs. Now it was up to the partners, their staff and several Prospects on loan from SAMCRO to finish the rest of the clean up.

In between supervising the process, Fawn and Lexie were kept busy on the telephone with their vendors confirming orders, negotiating credit terms, and coordinating delivery dates for replacement furniture, fixtures and beauty supplies. With Fawn being too aggressive and Lexie not aggressive enough, it was left up to Tina once again to work with Oswald's foreman to come up with a pretty tight schedule that would allow them to plan for the tentative grand opening in two weeks' time.

With all the progress they were making in such a short period of time, the current bee working its way up Fawn's ass and making her stress-eat had less to do with the destruction of the salon and more to do with her stubborn old man. After leaving the salon for the night the day of the break-in, Opie had put his size sixteens down and told her what the deal was going forward regarding security for _Take Five_. Without consulting Fawn or her partners, the Club had decided that it was putting the salon under its protection, watching over it _until further notice_.

In her heart, Fawn knew that Opie acting like a caveman came from a place of love and concern for her well-being. The bigger, more vocal part of Fawn, however, told her that the women's liberation movement had yet to make its way to Charming, forcing her to rebel against being told what to do just 'cause.

Although Opie's plan made sense—at least until the major repairs had been made, giving Juice and his crew ample space to install the new security system and AV equipment—there was something in his attitude that warned Fawn against giving up so much control. In deference to her old man and the fact that Opie had firmly planted his lips on hers and his hands on her ass in order to shut her up, Fawn had finally caved. But Jax Teller wasn't her old man and Fawn was still chafing after he had informed her that since there were currently no significant leads on the vandals responsible, she and her partners were going to have to get used to having the Prospects in the shop even after the new security system was installed.

Having departed from the other couples to return to Opie's home, and now out of earshot of his brothers, Fawn had pushed the envelope in her efforts to talk her old man out of having the Club's presence in the salon indefinitely.

"Who's gonna want to get their hair done with a bunch of big, burly men in leather hanging around?" Fawn had snarked, her hands on her hips as she faced off against her old man in the privacy of their bedroom. "It's a beauty salon, not a fuckin' tattoo parlor!"

The inevitable argument that followed only escalated as they tried to out-shout each other. Fawn had come to see this as a part of their normal routine when it came to disagreements. They would yell at each other, someone would finally say something that made sense and the other would apologize. They would come to a compromise or some sort of understanding and then kiss and make-up. As long as no one crossed the line or hit below the belt, that's just the way they were and had been since first laying eyes on each other.

But as hard as she tried, Fawn couldn't get her Redwood to see reason. It was only when Opie had hit below the belt—in her opinion—by telling her that there was no coming back for him if something happened to her, that it would break him if he failed to protect her, that Fawn finally threw in the towel.

She had, however, managed a small victory just as their "making up" session started heating up. Although Opie had insisted on having three Prospects present at all times, Fawn had managed to talk him down to one. While they came in handy during the clean up, she didn't need or want the SAMCRO Calvary camping out in the salon during business hours. It had taken a little convincing, but with Fawn's hands being capable of giving more than just a great haircut, Opie finally agreed to one Prospect at a time on a rotation of eight-hour shifts.

Fawn had insisted on one Prospect in particular to be her daytime bitch whenever he was available and Opie only agreed as long as she promised not to go easy on him, which was why she was currently cracking the whip on Kenny "Dirty Harry" Winston. The teenager, who was off from school for marking day, was on both clean up and security detail.

"Keep hauling ass, Harry! I want all that garbage stacked up nice and tidy 'cause God help you if I get a citation from those jerks down at the Sanitation Department." Fawn ordered. "When you're done, come see me 'because I have a whole shit load more for you to do."

"Yes, ma'am." Harry grinned and winked. "Maybe, after you're done working me into the ground, Miss Lexie over there might be willing to treat me to one of those fine massages you gonna be doing upstairs." He wriggled his eyebrows at Lexie, who was busy going through a large box of items salvaged from the clean up to catalogue them. "My poor muscles are terribly sore."

_Especially the really big one between my two big feet._

"Something tells me the type of 'massage' you're looking for might get us shutdown even before we open." Lexie's hazel eyes twinkled at the flirty young man. "Besides, Harry, any cubs I take on must be of legal age. Sorry."

_Too damn bad, though 'cause he's a cutie and I am horny._

"Can't blame a patch for trying." He winked at Lexie.

"Patch, huh?" Fawn quirked an eyebrow at the young man. "Get your _Prospect_ ass outside before I call the SAMCRO VP down here to deal with you." She ordered, barely concealing the grin on her face.

"Hey, no reason to bring it up to that level. I'm going." Harry quickly replied. Turning, he made his way out back hefting a large box on his shoulders. Ratboy and V-Lin rolled their eyes at the hubris of their fellow Prospect as they followed him outside, similarly burdened with garbage.

Both women managed to hold back their laughter until they heard the door slam shut behind them.

"Look at you," Fawn said as she eyed her friend. "Getting the young buck all riled up."

"Yeah, right." Lexie rolled her eyes. "Boys his age are like chimps. They fling their shit around indiscriminately just to see what sticks. The little player will hit on anything."

"There's nothing _little_ about that boy." Fawn replied.

Over the summer, Harry had shot up another three inches and now was about 6'2. According to his grandma Mary, he was literally eating everything not nailed down and Ellie advised that he spent most of his free time pumping iron in the Clubhouse's weight room. So far, the results were pretty impressive.

"No there's not. He's even got little girls running after him." Lexie smirked. "I tell you, that little Teller girl spent more time following him around on Saturday than actually helping with the clean up."

Fawn leaned against her station as she eyed her friend. "Oh, you noticed that, did you?" Lexie nodded. _From what I hear, little Maddy takes after her mom_ , Fawn mused to herself.

Now a part of the SAMCRO inner circle, Fawn was quickly learning the dynamics of certain relationships in her new extended family. Mostly from her Redwood, with Jolene filling in the gaps here and there, Fawn had learned that the beautiful old lady of the SAMCRO Prez had been a notorious tomboy herself. In spite of the now-voluptuous young woman's delayed puberty and their four-year age difference, Jolene had been aggressive in her pursuit of the young Prince of Charming. It may have taken her a minute, but according to legend (Big Otto), once Jolene had the rope tied around Jax's neck, it was only a matter of yanking his ass in and the young biker didn't stand a chance.

As much as Maddy Teller and her mom butted heads over her raucous behavior, it was clear from her interactions with the young Prospect Harry that the little girl had every intention of following in her mother's footsteps. While the eight-year age difference seemed like a huge, insurmountable gap now, in the long run it wouldn't make a difference. After all, Opie was nearly ten years older than Fawn. Although both Gemma and Mary thought Maddy's puppy love for the older teenager was cute and harmless, the more time Fawn spent observing the two interacting at family functions, the more she believed that the young girl was tenacious in her affections. If Fawn's hunch was right, it would be interesting to see how it would all play out between Jax, Jolene, and their daughter.

Whatever speculations had Fawn pondering the next generation of SAMCRO was quickly put to bed as she heard the salon's heavy glass door swoosh open. Fawn headed towards the reception area expecting to find Ellie back from making a lunch run, although the last thing she needed was more food.

"It's about time, Elle. We're starving in here." She said as she rounded the corner of the wall separating the stations from the reception area and came to an abrupt halt.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm afraid that you may be hungry for a little while longer." The tall, distinguished-looking man with a suave voice replied as he stood in front of the salon doors.

"Please excuse me. I was expecting someone else," Fawn replied cordially as she took in the man's wavy blond hair, horn-rimmed glasses and thin mustache. "I'm afraid we're not open for business right now. We're undergoing some repairs at the moment."

"Yes, I've noticed. That's the reason why I'm here." Pulling a business card out of his pocket with a flourish, the man handed it to Fawn.

Fawn's face betrayed both her confusion and curiosity as she reached for his card. However, as her eyebrows rose into her hairline Fawn felt her shoulders tense. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she focused on the name on the vaguely familiar-looking card.

  
**Donald J. Forsyth**   
**Vice President of Acquisitions**   
**Boland-Howard Economic Development Corporation**   


As it finally dawned on her, Fawn straightened her shoulders and fastened a gimlet eye on the man standing in front of her. She barely heard Lexie's gasp of shock as her partner turned the corner of the partition to see the man who had tried to buy their salon several months ago. Walking to stand next to Fawn, the two women eyed one another and had the same simultaneous thought:

_What the fuck do we have here?_

Lexie wasted no time. "Mr. Forsyth, what are _you_ doing here?" She asked quizzically.

"Ah, Ms. Dawson, you remember me. It's very nice seeing you again, although I am sorry about the circumstances in which I find you." Forsyth allowed his eyes to travel around the salon to take in all of the damage. "I read in the _Stockton News_ about your unfortunate break in this past weekend. I thought that since I would be in Charming today I would stop by to see the damage for myself." He said sympathetically. "I can see that since the first time we met the property has been extensively redesigned and renovated. I'm sure it must have been quite impressive before the vandalism." Turning to Fawn, he flashed a dashing smile. "Ms. Dawson, I don't believe I've had the pleasure of being formally introduced to your companion."

Lexie was struggling to rein in the inexplicable anger she felt the moment she had laid eyes on the man. Instead, she performed the introductions. "Please excuse my manners." She drawled with a tinge of sarcasm coloring her voice. "This is Fawn Trager, one of my partners. Fawn, this is—"

"The guy who tried to buy us out with a low ball figure a couple of months ago." Fawn cut in irritably as she handed Lexie his business card.

"It's nice meeting you, Ms. Trager. I was unaware that Ms. Dawson had a business partner." Forsyth held out a slender hand and, after hesitating, but feeling obliged to do so, Fawn shook it. "Let me first offer my condolences for your loss." He offered a sympathetic smile.

"Condolences are a bit much, don't you think?" Fawn replied tersely. "After all, no one died. The salon has suffered a little damage, but all our material losses can be replaced."

"I think _a little damage_ is something of an understatement, wouldn't you say?" Forsyth replied with a raised eyebrow. "From what I can see it, you probably have thousands of dollars in repairs and remodeling that needs to be done, not to mention the repurchasing of many items." He concluded as he cast an eye over the mutilated furniture which was still in the reception area.

"Lucky we have insurance, _wouldn't you say_?" Lexie replied. "It may seem like a big setback from the outside, Mr. Forsyth, but I can assure you that we have it all under control."

"Ms. Trager, you mentioned your belief that my firm's offer was not to your liking." Forsyth continued, brushing Lexie's last comment aside. "Considering the market, as well as the state of the two buildings at the time, I can say in good faith that we were being more than generous. In retrospect, I'm sure you wish you had given the offer careful consideration before turning us down."

Fawn cocked her head to the side as she eyed the tall slender man with a measure of disbelief. "If you're insinuating that I _regret_ turning you down, let me make myself clear: I had no regrets then and I sure as shit don't have any regrets now. Take a good look around, Mr. Forsyth," She held her arms wide open to encompass the salon. "We've done some serious work here and maybe because of this setback we are more determined than ever to turn _Take Five_ into a success and make it the place to go in Sanwa County for beauty services and spa treatments."

Forsyth let out a dramatic sigh as if dealing with a difficult child and not a grown business woman. "Ms. Trager, I've been in this business for nearly 20 years and I've witnessed many a well-intentioned first-time entrepreneur fail miserably in a stable economy. All of them had solid business plans, yet the number of failures is staggering. What you are doing, although commendable, is still ill-conceived for this area, especially in a down market."

"I don't agree." Fawn said confidently, crossing her arms under her chest.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Forsyth replied condescendingly. "Because if you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation. A savvy business owner would know when the deck is stacked against them and, from what I understand, this isn't your first setback. You haven't had an easy time of it at all—problems with the buildings department, construction issues, materials going missing, cost over-runs, and now vandalism." His smile was full of faux-sympathy. "You ladies have overextended yourselves and it is my belief that it will be quite some time before your business sees a profit. That's why I'm here, to let you know that my firm's offer to buy you out still stands."

Fawn's blue eyes were shooting angry sparks. Ignoring Lexie's shocked gasp at Forsyth's effrontery, she quickly answered him back. "I'm the type of person that rises to a challenge, Mr. Forsyth. I don't and won't back down, no matter what. What makes you think that after every challenge we've faced _and_ overcome we'd want to throw in the towel now?" She asked defiantly.

"Because you also seem like a smart woman, Ms. Trager," Forsyth stated, his eyes suddenly hard and cold. "And I believe you will fare better by accepting the offer now than you would facing the consequences later."

"Consequences?" Lexie shot back, her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Without making enough of a profit you will undoubtedly struggle to make payroll and pay back the extensive loans you've taken to finance this endeavor. In a town as small as this you would be lucky to cover your own living expenses after all the overhead. If the threat of business as well as personal bankruptcy isn't enough, however, there's always the possibility that the vandals responsible for the damage may return. I understand that the Sheriffs Department have thus far been unsuccessful in coming up with potential suspects. Damage to the business is one thing, but I hate the thought of you ladies getting hurt trying to protect it."

Both Fawn and Lexie, caught off-guard, were momentarily stunned. Seizing on the opportunity to continue, Forsyth smiled compassionately though it never reached his eyes.

"For your sakes, I seriously hope that you'll reconsider an offer from us. I'm sure we can come up with a number that at the very least would clear the worst of the debt you've incurred. But," He paused. "Should your business suffer anymore physical damage, the offer is likely to drop. My cell phone is on my business card, so when you come up with a reasonable number, call me and we'll negotiate."

"Mr. Forsyth, there is nothing to reconsider or negotiate. _We're not interested_ , so if you don't mind, please show yourself out and don't bother coming back." Fawn said coldly.

Putting a hand in the air to wave his assent, Forsyth turned and headed towards the door. "I seriously hope that next time you don't regret your decision." He called out over his shoulder without looking back. The salon door swung shut behind him and the silence echoed.

* * *

Fawn was seething with anger as she glared at the back of Don Forsyth as he headed across the street. She opened her mouth to let loose a bunch of obscenities, but didn't get the chance.

"Who the fuck was that?" Fawn turned around to see Harry standing by the partition with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

The stylist took a good look at the visibly upset young Prospect. If the scowl on his face was any indication, it was clear he must have overheard a good deal of their conversation with the unwelcomed visitor.

"That was nobody, Harry." Fawn insisted, trying to come across as unaffected. "Just forget about it, okay?"

"Not happening, Fawn." Harry replied tersely. The Prospects had been working up a sweat as they re-stacked the garbage in the alleyway and Harry had offered to go back inside and grab a few bottles of water. As he exited the employee lounge, the obviously heated exchange his father's old lady was having drew his attention and he was not about to back down from what he had overheard. "Who was that asshole?" He repeated.

Lexie, who was feeling a little more uneasy about the conversation than Fawn, spoke up. "He's from a development company that tried to buy us out a few months ago for literally pennies on the dollar." She replied and then turned to Fawn. "Do you believe the nerve of that piece of shit?" Lexie asked angrily.

Fawn shook her head. "No I don't. Coming here under the guise of offering us his sympathy only to try and buy our business right from under us—again." She fumed.

"That's not all he did." Harry replied adamantly. "He threatened you, too."

Fawn raised her eyebrows as she took in the implacable look on the young man's face. Shit, she had hoped Harry hadn't caught that bit of the conversation. Playing it off, Fawn waved him off. "Puh-lease! That scrawny bastard? I don't think so." She retorted.

 _Really?_ Inner-Fawn said acidly. _This is Redwood's kid you're talking to. You can't blow him off any more than you can Ope._

Apparently, the Prospect felt the same way. "I'm not an idiot, Fawn. What was all that stuff about the assholes who did this coming back here and him _hating_ the thought of you or Lexie getting hurt?"

"That was a little creepy, Fawn." Lexie said quietly as she sat on the edge of one of the mutilated sofas.

"I agree. It was creepy," Fawn replied. "But he's in the business of preying on the weak to swindle them out of their properties on the cheap. That dandy douche bag couldn't hurt a fly." She stated emphatically as she watched Harry dig into his kutte and pull out his cell phone. "What are you doing?" Fawn asked suspiciously.

"I'm calling my VP, that's what the fuck I'm doing."

_Aw shit!_

* * *

_I never should have dropped out of dental school_ , Don Forsyth thought irritably. _If I hadn't, I might have a decent practice in Laguna Beach and I wouldn't be out here playing enforcer in some little hick town_!

At 45, Don was now regretting some of his life choices, including deciding to align himself with a group of con men. The hours were shitty, the really big scores were often hard to come by, and the people he had to deal with often were a lot slimier than him.

His assignment sounded simple enough on paper. He was supposed to buy up as many businesses as possible on the six blocks of Main Street south of the oversized garden located in the middle of Charming's business district. Although Main Street also extended on the north side of what was called Charming Gardens for another ten blocks, it was this smaller section of the town's main thoroughfare that was of particular interest to the corporation he currently worked for.

Located in a more dilapidated part of the business district, the property was considerably less expensive and the parcel of land was the perfect spot for Boland-Howard's new development project.

Thus far, it had been a slow and steady process trying to buy the locations without the property owners catching on to what was actually happening. Boland-Howard existed only on paper and it was important to the partners backing the dummy corporation that none of the owners knew just how valuable the target properties were to their scheme. The big money was being set aside for the second phase of their plans for the town of Charming.

So far, Don had moderate success in obtaining eight out of the thirty or so properties that Boland-Howard needed. The method to his success had been convincing the owners to sell their business properties and for the next year they would continue running their stores for Boland-Howard while retaining 60% of the profits. It had worked like a charm, especially with Forsyth first targeting owners who were close to retirement age. Not only would they receive a reasonably decent price for their property considering the market, but would continue earning a living without the actual responsibility that came with owning a business. At the end of that year, Boland-Howard would claim outright ownership of the business, allowing the former-owners to fully retire.

Don surveyed the street he was on. So far he had secured three of the seven buildings on the block: the long-vacant shop across the street, and the dry cleaners and shoe repair shop next to the expanded salon. He was hoping to close on the ice cream parlor soon bringing his total to four. That only left two other shops to deal with.

Unfortunately, the owners of the salon were being particularly difficult and it all boiled down to bad timing on his part. Instead of working to acquire a "sure thing" property in Sacramento, he should have approached the original owner of the salon, Gina Dawson, before she decided to retire and sold the business to her daughter and her idealistic and difficult partner Fawn Trager. With all the information he had gathered on Gina Dawson, Don was sure he could have convinced her to sell. Instead, he had missed out on not only the salon, but the empty storefront next door as well.

Don had put whatever influence he had in Charming to work in trying to "convince" the owners to sell, but in spite all of the roadblocks he had managed to send their way, the bloody fuckin' bitches were determined to hold their ground. What should have been two easy acquisitions for his firm had become the bane of his existence. Now he had to report to his contact on his unsuccessful second meeting.

Pulling his phone out of the breast pocket of his stylish blazer, Don pressed the speed dial to speak to the man he reported to. A husky voice picked up the phone.

" _It's about time you called. Tell me you have good news." The man on the other end insisted brusquely._

"I'm afraid I can't, Mr. Boland." Don replied. "They still refuse to sell."

_Leonard Boland blustered angrily. "What the fuck are you talking about?! I was told that the damage—"_

"Was apparently not enough to convince them to sell." Don finished for the man. "I thought I had hit the jackpot when I read about the break-in, but my contact in the Sheriff's Department said that only the first floor was hit and even though it was pretty bad, it obviously wasn't enough to stop them from rebuilding. They're not budging." He said forcefully.

_Except for the harsh breathing, there was a brief silence on the phone. "Then maybe what they need is a little more of an incentive."_

Don rolled his eyes. "More money's not the answer. I already put that option on the table, told them that the next offer would at least see them out of the debt they got into when they bought the second building. They didn't even blink. You'll really have to sweeten the pot to make these bitches sell."

" _I wasn't thinking of money." Boland said coldly._

"Then what?" Don listened closely as his boss outlined his strategy. "With all due respect, sir, that is definitely _not_ a good idea. I have no problem with doing the soft sell to get you the properties you want and I think I've done a pretty damn good job so far, but what you're suggesting crosses the line. I just don't see how trashing the shop a second time will convince them to sell."

" _It will, Donny Boy, if done right." The raspy voice replied._

"Well, then maybe you should find someone else to handle that, sir. That's not what I do and I certainly don't get paid enough for that shit." Don insisted.

" _Fine!" Boland said harshly. "I'll handle this one on my own. Now quit wasting time and move on the next set of properties. Time is money."_

With that, the phone disconnected in his ear and Don sighed as he shoved it into his pocket. Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed the remodeled salon. Shaking his head, he felt his conscience give him a tweak, but did his best to ignore it.

Turning away, Don crossed the street and looked up at the sign above the door, _Stem and Bulbs_. Opening it, he walked inside.

* * *

 _Hmm, I can't believe I've never even seen the inside of SAMCRO's inner sanctum before_ , Fawn thought as she looked around, her eyes round with curiosity.

Sitting in what she had been told was her old man's seat at the table, Fawn allowed herself to take stock of the room, her eyes wandering over the double-doors made of wood and black studded leather, moving onto the walls covered in rich wood paneling and finally the wooden window treatments. She was actually sitting quite comfortably in what had to be an expensive executive-style chair that was identical to the others around the rich burnished Redwood table with the Reaper magnificently carved in the middle and beautifully lit by a trio of attractive hanging lamps.

 _Take away all the SOA memorabilia and this could be a conference room in any Fortune 500 corporation in the country_ , she thought bemusedly.

The elegance of the room was certainly the last thing that the stylist had expected, never mind the fact that she was actually sitting _at the fuckin' table_ , something she had learned early on was definitely not the norm in an MC Clubhouse _._ Eyeing the grim faces completely focusing their attention on her, however, had Fawn wishing she had never set foot in the "Chapel".

Barely an hour had passed since Don Forsyth's visit and Fawn was amazed at how quickly she had been called to the carpet in front of the SAMCRO Prez and his officers, including her old man. Although she had tried to curtail Harry's efforts in reporting what he had overheard to his VP, Fawn already had her car keys and jacket in hand by the time Harry got off the phone and informed her that she had been "ordered" to get her ass down to the Clubhouse pronto. She hadn't, however, expected her old man and his President to make quick work of gathering the rest of the crew around the table and was shocked as shit as she was hastily ushered inside the Chapel and asked to take a seat.

But even that was nothing compared to the apprehension knotting her stomach caused by the angry glares aimed at her by Opie and her father.

_Damn it Harry! Nobody likes a fuckin' rat._

Glancing over at the head of the table, Fawn's misery at her current set of circumstances was plainly evident to the Club's President. As he eyed his VP who had finally moved to stand behind his old lady, Jax saw that Opie's quiet rage was simmering underneath the surface. His brother had a tenuous, at best, hold on his anger about this new-to-him development. Having witnessed first hand as Fawn quite capably stood up to local law enforcement in the past, it was a little surprising to Jax to see her so shaken up and nervous. Deciding to take pity on the young woman, he called the meeting to order.

"Alright, quiet the fuck down a minute." Jax said sharply, slamming the gavel down. As silence fell over the room, he focused his gaze on Fawn. "So I hear that you had an interesting visitor stop by the shop today." He prodded gently.

"It was really nothing," Fawn replied evasively. "Lexie and I handled him and sent him on his way. I honestly don't see what all the fuss is about."

Opie placed his large hands on her shoulders. "Maybe you don't, but to hear the Prospect tell it, this sounds like some shit that needs to be dealt with. Like right now, but we need to hear the whole story from you, Fawn. All of it." He said quietly. His tone brooked no argument.

Had the two of them been alone, it was quite likely that Fawn would have made it clear how she felt about Opie's highhandedness, but she knew that she couldn't dare act the fool in here. Besides, her old man had made it clear that going forward in their relationship she was going to have to accept his help, whatever the situation. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass Opie or Tig in front of their brothers, but it was costing Fawn a whole lot of energy to pull back on her own hot-tempered nature.

In spite of that, in a reasonably calm voice, Fawn managed to give up all the information she had on Don Forsyth, including a detailed report on both of his visits to the salon. Pulling out his card from the pocket of her jeans, she laid it on the Redwood table.

"That's everything I know. I never met this Forsyth guy before today." She concluded.

The President picked up the card and read the man's name and his company aloud. "Sound familiar to anybody?" He asked and several heads shook around the table. Jax tossed the card on the table. "Juice, see what you can do with that shit. We're gonna need as much Intel as you can find on this guy and his company."

"Sure thing." The Intelligence Officer replied as he picked the card up and tucked it into the pocket of his kutte.

"I can already tell ya this shit ain't sitting right with me." Bobby started. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who finds this douche bag paying a visit right after the place has been trashed just a tad bit suspicious."

"Even stranger is the fact that he's been keeping a close eye on the salon's progress, especially since the girls turned his first offer down." Tiki said thoughtfully.

Fawn had been so consumed with trying to get Forsyth out of the salon that she never even considered the possibility of his involvement in the break-in. "He did seem to know a lot about the setbacks we'd suffered in the beginning." She commented. "Do you think it's possible that he had something to do with it?" Fawn asked the table in general.

"Anything is possible," Opie started grimly, his eyes meeting Tig's. "But right now, we're focusing our attention on other considerations."

"Other considerations?" Fawn wondered out loud, her eyebrows wrinkling in confusion. "Like what?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Fawnzy." Tig quickly interjected. "All you need to know is that anyone who fucks with my kid is fuckin' with SAMCRO. We're gonna squash this shit and fast, right, Ope?"

"Absolutely."

Feeling suddenly out of the loop again, Fawn looked at Jax quizzically. Don Forsyth seemed like the most reasonable suspect at the moment and she couldn't understand why no one but Bobby and Tiki agreed with her way of thinking.

Jax gave Fawn a slight nod and spoke up, letting her know that he also shared the same concern. "I think it's best that we keep an open mind as to who might be responsible." He stated evenly. "Right now, all possibilities are still on the table. We need more information before we can rule anyone out." He said as he eyed both his VP and SAA with a warning look.

Jax had not been sitting at the head of the table for nothing. He had managed to learn a thing or two in the time he had been running the Club, but reading his brothers was something he had learned a long time ago. After learning that the getaway vehicle had been a black pick up truck, the Club was in general agreement that Fawn's former boyfriend, Max Ryder had been the one to trash her shop. Everyone sitting around the table remembered Max's parting shot at Fawn and because of it, Jax knew that his best friend was ready to spit nails over the fact that he had allowed the son of a bitch to walk out of the Clubhouse alive.

But Opie wasn't alone in his anger. With Tig backing him up, the two were ready to do some serious bloodletting, but thus far have had no success in locating the ex-boyfriend. Jax had personally reached out to the Tacoma charter's President Lorca, who tasked several of his patches to stake out Max's condo in Seattle for the last two days. The apartment, however, remained empty, so Juice had teamed up with Tacoma's I.O. to locate other potential hangouts and contacts, but had scored no direct hits.

Jax couldn't blame either man for how they were feeling. Both men felt that a loved one had been victimized on his watch. Jax himself had been there, done that and had a closet full of t-shirts when it came to similar situations with his own old lady. But if his VP and SAA couldn't see past their concern for Fawn and their need for vengeance, then he had to remain the voice of reason.

Even though Jax believed that they could benefit from Fawn's insight when it came to Max, with this being as much an internal family matter as it was a Club issue, out of respect for his brothers, he had to take a backseat to Opie and Tig. He still believed that keeping Fawn in the dark was a mistake and her recent run-in with a development corporation looking to buy her out was a big indicator that his gut instinct was right again.

Jax could only hope that they were making the right call, but if convinced otherwise, he was prepared to take control of the situation himself.

* * *

"All I'm saying is," Fawn said in a slightly aggrieved tone as she looked up at her old man. "You didn't have to drag me out in front of the entire Club and interrogate me as if I was guilty of something."

"You were!" Opie shot back as he eyed his woman. "You should have told me about this Boland-Howard shit weeks ago. I thought you understood that you're not alone in this shit any more, babe."

The two of them were now in the privacy of Opie's dorm, which considering the thin walls wasn't very private at all, but it was better than the two of them going at it in front of his brothers.

After tasking the Club to investigate the possible new lead, Jax brought the meeting to a close and Opie made quick work of dragging his old lady out of the Chapel and back to his dorm.

"I know, Ope. It's just that I've spent the last eleven years taking control of my life and sometimes I have a hard time just giving that control away." Fawn explained. Taking a deep breath, she sucked back the tears she could feel building up. "I just don't want the Club thinking that their VP's ex-junky girlfriend can't handle her shit."

Opie furrowed his brow, feeling as if he had been dealt a solid blow to the gut. "First of all," He started quietly as he stepped into her personal space and cupped her face in his hands. "You're not my girlfriend. You're my _old lady_. Big fuckin' difference." Looking into his soulful eyes, Fawn bit her lip as she felt one damn tear make a run for it for down her cheek. "And second, no one—not for one fuckin' minute—has ever thought of you as anything less than an amazing and wonderful woman, least of all me. You have to know by now how much I love you and respect everything you've accomplished in your life. You do know that, right?" He asked and Fawn nodded, unable to speak. "Babe, I'm your man in more ways than just in the bedroom. All I want is the chance to be there for you and to take care of shit that you shouldn't have to deal with on your own. It's my right and you gave it to when you took on my crow. Just like I promised you my love and protection when I put this," Opie pointed to her name on his forearm. "On my body for everyone to see and I take my commitment to you seriously, Fawn. You're deluding yourself if you think it's any other way."

Fawn sighed as she let herself fall against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. "Never let it be said that the Trager gene for blowing shit out of proportion by-passed me." She murmured quietly against his kutte. Pulling away slightly, Fawn looked up at Opie. "I'm sorry, baby. I just get so—" She twirled her index finger next to her head for the universal sign of crazy. "Sometimes my crazy gets away from me."

"I can see that." Opie managed a wry grin as he wrapped his arms around her. "I thought I was used to it by now, but the surprises keep coming with you, don't they?"

"I gotta keep you guessing, Redwood." Fawn teased as she batted her eyelashes at him. "I have to keep you on your toes and interested."

"That you do, Big Red." Opie ran a hand over her luxurious mane of dark red hair. "Keep me on my toes long enough, though and I might just tip over into an early grave."

"Shut up!" Fawn tried pushing herself out of his embrace, but Opie held on tight.

"Seriously, babe," Opie started. "I know trust is a big thing for you, but you're gonna have to get used me taking care of you. You gotta believe I won't ever let you down. I promise."

"I know that, Opie," Fawn tugged on his beard, bringing his mouth down to hers, her kiss soft but passionate. "And I promise to try harder." She nearly whispered against his lips.

"A promise is good, but I'm thinking you need to do something to make up for your lack of faith in me." Opie leered down at her wickedly.

Fawn's eyes widened with faux-innocence. "Oh I do, do I?"

"Oh, definitely," Opie walked her backwards until she lost her balance and toppled onto the bed. Fawn let out a girly squeal as her old man fell on top of her and felt herself grow weak with need as he nuzzled her neck. "And you need to start like right now."

* * *

It was the last "Oh, God! Fuck me, baby!" followed by mostly incoherent moaning that finally drove Tig out of his dorm and into the Main Room. For the past 22 years, Tig Trager had served as SAA for the Redwood charter and had seen as well as heard his share of scary, soul-scarring shit, but nothing compared to hearing his extremely vocal daughter getting plowed by one of his brothers in his own Clubhouse. Yeah, Fawn was a grown woman and Opie was just enjoying what was only his right as her old man, but even the voyeuristic perv in Tig had to draw the line somewhere and any visuals involving his kid rejoicing in her old man's dick were unwelcomed in the dark muck that was his mind.

"Yo, Shithead! Hurry up and give me a double!" Tig demanded as he sat down at the bar next to his former President.

Clay watched as Harry poured the SAA a double shot of Jack and laughed quietly to himself as his brother drained the glass dry. With a grimace on his face as the liquid burned a hot path into his already-churning gut, Tig slammed the shot glass down and motioned to the Prospect to fill it up again.

"I know that feeling, brother," Clay said as he eyed Tig sympathetically. "But maybe you might wanna slow it down a bit before you end up shitfaced and banging on their door demanding they stop."

Tig flashed him with a death glare. "You don't know shit." He declared, the snark clearly evident in his voice as he brought his second drink to his lips.

"Oh, really?" Clay asked silkily. "I got eyes in my head, Tiggy. I saw you hightailing it away from the dorms just now. I've got ears too and _Fawnzy_ has quite a set of lungs on her. Believe me, I _know_ how you feel. Baby girl's a screamer too." He said ruefully as he lifted his own glass of Coke, the only beverage he was allowed as of late in his own damn Clubhouse.

 _Gemma has her spies everywhere_!

Tig rolled his eyes as he met Clay's. At the moment, he didn't know what was worse, the knowledge that his brother was currently rocking his kid's world or that everyone in the Clubhouse seemed to know as well.

"Shit," Tig mumbled. "Why are the walls so fuckin' thin in this place anyway?" He complained.

"Because back in the day it _used_ to be fun hearing your brothers get some," Clay chuckled. "And none of us ever imagined that one day our daughters would be the 'some' they were getting."

Tig shook his head and, in spite of himself, laughed as well. "Yeah, I guess it's a little different listening to some other schmuck's kid getting pounded like a cheap cut of meat."

"Amen, brother!" Clay threw his hands up in mock-praise. Sharing a few moments of blissful silence, Clay finally turned to Tig and stated, "I thought you were okay with Opie making Fawn his old lady."

"I am, a'ight!" Tig retorted waspishly. "With everything that's going on, it's just a little weird right now is all. She's my kid, man, and all I wanna do is protect her, but—"

"But that's your brother's privilege now." Clay offered and Tig nodded solemnly. Clay ran a hand over the scruff on his face. "Told ya I knew what you're going through. It's gonna take a minute, brother, but you'll realize soon enough that there will always room for two old men in your baby girl's life. I know Jolene loves her old man enough to kill for him if she had to, but a girl always needs her daddy."

Tig shook his head. "That's where you and me differ, Clay. See, I was never much of a father to Fawnzy and her sister—"

"Yet Fawn dropped everything back in Seattle to be by your side when you needed her most." Clay reflected.

"Yeah, she did," Tig smiled in spite of himself. "And she forced us to get our shit together. She's a good kid."

"And as long as she's with Ope, you know she's here for good 'cause he certainly won't let her out of his sight."

Tig laughed. "There's something about us Tragers, man. We bring out the obsessive shit in some people."

"I'm starting to get that." Clay smirked.

"Truth is, bro, I'm glad she's with Ope." Tig confessed. "He balances out the crazy in her, you know, and she makes him happy."

"Happier than I've seen him in years." Clay agreed. "So what's your beef? What's all this misplaced anger I feel coming off ya?"

"This shit with Fawnzy's shop," Tig started. "I just feel like I'm sitting on my ass doing nothing when I should be out there killing shit." Truth was, the SAA was feeling the need to pound the shit out of somebody and Opie was starting to look a like a prime candidate right about now.

"You need to hold onto all that shit. Maybe save it for the ring on Friday, or you could take it out on a couple of the croweaters." Clay advised. " _Or Tina_." He added as an afterthought.

The two men gave each other a guarded look. They had been friends for many years, ever since Tig had transferred to the mother charter to take on the challenge of protecting Clay's back. Even though they were not in the habit of talking about touchy-feely shit, in recent years the older man had managed to steer Tig through a rough patch after the incident with the Calaveras. More recently, his advice to Tig on how to fix his relationship with Fawn was based on his own personal experience with Jolene.

But the subject of Tina, Clay's ex-lover and now-former junky, had been deliberately avoided by the two men. With the SAA spending a good deal of his free time with and under Tina Giamatti's lush body, it seemed to Clay that now was as good a time as any to discuss this recent turn of events.

Tig turned on his bar stool to meet the old biker's blue eyes set in a craggy face. Without breaking their eye connection, Tig reached out and slapped the back of Harry's head. Hard.

"Ow, damn it!" The young man yelped in surprise.

"Go clean up the stockroom." Tig ordered brusquely.

As a Prospect, Harry had quickly learned what it truly meant to be a fly on the wall of the Clubhouse. Being a good prospective member of SAMCRO meant that he did what he was told to do as quickly and efficiently and by asking as little questions as possible. It also required discretion and even though Harry had learned to be seen and not heard, it didn't mean, however, that he had automatically lost his hearing. As a result, he had learned a lot of interesting shit over the last couple of months, 99.9% of which he knew it was best if he kept to himself.

 _Not completely surprised about Aunt Jo being a screamer, but I coulda lived the rest of my life not needing to know that shit_ , Harry had thought to himself as he wiped down the bar's gleaming surface while listening to the old timers talk. By keeping an ear tuned in to some conversations, sometimes you heard the beginnings of some shit you really didn't want to hear in the first place. Sometimes, however, it was good having a head's up in case shit got twisted.

 _Like now_ , Harry nearly cursed under his breath as he eyed the two stony-faced bikers as he massaged the back of his neck. Last thing he needed was having to explain to the SAMCRO Prez how two brothers ended up beating the shit out of each other on his watch. _Aunt Jo will have my balls on a skewer if Uncle Clay ends up a grease stain on the Clubhouse floor. Hardwood is a bitch to clean._

The glare ol' crazy eyes was burning him with, however, had Harry thinking that his chances of living to see his seventeenth birthday were slim if he didn't move his ass to do what he was told. Shaking his head, Harry realized that the stock room must be the cleanest area in the whole Clubhouse considering how many times a week he gets sent to clean it while the patches talk. Not really in the mood for a taste of Tig's handful of rings, Harry threw his cleaning rag on the bar top and left the Main Room.

"You know," Tig started as he eyed Clay. "I am in the mood to do some shit kicking. You volunteering?" He asked aggressively.

Looking at his hands, Clay wiggled his fingers. "My doc did a damn good job on my mitts, brother, but I ain't interested in fuckin' them up now by pounding you on your hard head." He replied in a calm tone.

"Then why bring up Tina?"

Clay sighed. _How can I bring up a genuine concern for my brother without sounding like a cock-blocking asshole and a meddling old woman to boot_ _?_

The old biker had already witnessed his old lady being told where to go and how to get there several weeks ago for trying to warn their old friend about Tina Giamatti. Instead of stopping shit in its tracks as was her intention, Gemma had pushed the biker headlong into what was becoming a hot and heavy affair between the SAA and his daughter's birth mother. While he had done his best to comfort his old lady for getting the wind knocked out of her sails, he personally thought that she had gotten what she had deserved for meddling, even if her heart had been in the right place.

Clay had figured that this shit Tig had going with Tina would burn pretty hot for a while and then put itself out. Clay couldn't blame him really. After all, even though 30-plus years had passed, he himself remembered how much he had thoroughly enjoyed what his baby mama had to offer. With Tina still looking good, Clay was willing to bet that even if she remembered only half of her bedroom skills from back in the day, Tiggy was getting a hell of a ride.

But as he covertly watched the couple interact the few times he had seen them together, it was clear to Clay that Tig was more into the woman than he had believed possible. His first clue had been the gaggle of lonely croweaters hanging around the Clubhouse. Rumor had it that Tig was spending less time indulging his "unique" sexual preferences with them and more time with Tina at her place. For the most part, his dorm went unused except for when he needed to take a quick shower after working in the garage or at the Club's gun warehouse.

Clay's interest in what was going on between the outlaw and the reformed junky had more to do with his own daughter than in trying to protect Tig. The SAA was a grown man who could handle his own shit. In recent weeks, however, Jolene had not only accepted her birth mother's presence in Charming, but in her life as well. Jolene and Tina had a long way to go still, but his grandchildren had readily accepted the woman into their lives and Clay didn't want any blow back from an ugly ending to whatever was going on with Tig and Tina affecting his daughter and her family.

Besides, Clay loved the crazy, wild-eyed son of a bitch. He didn't want to see Tig get hurt. If that was even possible.

So Clay remained calm as he spoke with his longtime brother and friend. "Look, you and I know that Tina's arrival in Charming stirred up a whole lot of crap for everybody. It's taken people a minute to get their shit together, myself included. Now I ain't trying to get in your business, but I wouldn't be doing the right thing if I didn't express my concern for my family. You and baby girl are my family, so I was just wondering where you think this thing you have with Tina is going, that's all."

"I don't have a fuckin' 'thing' with Tina." Tig retorted.

 _Damn,_ Clay thought. _Is he in_ _fuckin' denial or what?_

"Okay." Clay drawled.

"Look, man, are you having a problem with me being with Tina because of the history between you two?" Tig asked irritably. "Maybe her coming back into your life has stirred some shit up. She's some fine pussy, brother and I can only imagine what she was like at twenty. Maybe you're feeling a little nostalgic for a piece of that trim."

"Hey!" Clay pointed a finger at Tig angrily. "Don't get shit twisted! My only interest in Tina is in making sure she doesn't cause any trouble for my family." He argued. "Besides, one crazy broad in my bed is more than enough."

"Yeah? I think it's more like Gemma would gut you like a fish and then stuff and mount your ass over your own fuckin' fireplace."

"Believe that." Clay agreed. The two men looked at each and started laughing.

Stacking several boxes of liquor up against the wall of the stockroom, Harry sighed in relief as he heard the faint sounds of laughter through the door he had left open a crack. Closing the door shut, he put his full concentration on his work figuring that everything was cool.

"Like I said, what you got going with Tina is your concern, but with all this shit over your kid's salon and tracking down the piece of shit responsible, the last thing we need is any more drama for the Club. Just saying." Clay swung his head around and, confirming that they were still alone, gave the SAA a terse nod towards the bar.

Quickly understanding the signal, Tig grabbed the bottle of Jack and poured a two finger shot into his glass and passed it over to Clay, who quickly knocked it back with a gusty sigh. "Good shit." He said as he put the glass back in front of his brother.

Tig grinned and grimaced at the same time. As much as everyone considered him something of a crazy idiot savant who could work wonders with a Glock, he knew his brother had a right to be concerned. The truth was Tig wasn't sure what he had going with Tina, but he had come to realize one thing:

He was having a great fuckin' time trying to figure it out!

It wasn't just the sex either, although that part was truly amazing. For the first time in a long time, Tig had genuine admiration for a woman. Like her kid Jolene Teller, Tina was not only a fuckin' knockout, but she had a quick wit about her. She was smart, savvy, and real. As far as he could tell there was nothing emotionally or physically fake or artificial about her, unlike some of the women at the Clubhouse. Tig had never been a guy who had a problem with plastic, but he had to admit, he had a new found appreciation for Tina's homegrown tits, especially when compared to the silicone sacks that were amply and readily available on the lot.

The thing was that on some level he could see that his appetites—such as they were—were undergoing a radical change now that he had been introduced to the high quality woman that Tina was. It wasn't something that he really liked thinking about all that much. To him, one pussy was just as good as another, except he was starting to realize that wasn't quite true anymore as it used to be. They had only been hooking up for the past few weeks and, to Tig's way of thinking, there was no need to examine shit too closely right now. They were just enjoying each other and the only thing his brother needed to know was that he had shit under control. After all, he had a rep to protect.

"Everything is cool between me and T, a'ight? We're just hanging around, getting our kicks, that's all." Tig declared as if it was no big deal. "I appreciate you looking out for me, brother, but there ain't no reason to worry. Ain't no shit gonna blow back on the Club or Doll Face."

Clay looked into Tig's blue eyes and almost laughed aloud. There was no need for him to be the one to explain to Tigger that he didn't know it yet, but his ass had been well and truly snagged by a pair of seafoam green eyes. Clay did, after all, have first hand experience in seeing how that shit went down with baby girl and his stepson. Instead, Clay smiled and clapped Tig on his back.

_Tiggy will figure it all out on his own sooner or later. And when that happens, God help us all._

* * *

_If Tina has her way_ , Fawn marveled as she took a look around _Take Five's_ first floor. _We might actually get the salon ready for our new opening date_.

It was truly amazing considering the damage that had been done, but here it was nearly a week later and the salon had already undergone something of a major transformation. For the last three days, Oswald's crew had been hard at work to restore the salon to its condition before the break-in. With repairs to the damaged walls, floors, and lighting fixtures well underway, tomorrow would see the demolition of four out of the eight stations that had been damaged beyond repair, with their replacements installed in the days that followed.

At first, their construction foreman Bill had been reluctant to let Tina press him for a date when the work could begin. He was already working on another project and she had pushed, trying to get him to agree to an immediate start day with ten days to get the work done. He had pushed back, insisting that other matters took precedence over the salon and that had been the wrong tack to take with the feisty older woman.

Without hesitating, Tina put a call into Elliott Oswald himself to let him know how unhappy she and her partners were with the level of service provided by his company. Tina had been pleasantly surprised to hear that Elliott was angry over the situation as well. A direct descendant of one of the town's founding fathers, Elliott took pride in providing the kind of personal service that was the norm 100 years ago when Oswald Construction had been established.

The fact of the matter was that Oswald felt he owed the owners of _Take Five_ a debt of gratitude. As well connected as the partners were—one of them being the daughter of a member of SAMCRO—it was their own hard work that was benefiting Oswald and his businesses. The construction and lumber arms of his enterprise had been inundated with work orders from local businesses looking to expand or renovate. Working with the new owners of the salon on their ambitious project had started a positive chain reaction that would not only benefit the town's economy, but also improve his bottom line as well. As a result, not only was his crew back in the salon bright and early on Tuesday morning, but Elliott had also used his connections to press the plumbing and air-conditioning contractors back on the job to repair the damaged shampoo area and air-conditioning systems.

The one thing Elliott had strongly advised against, however, was waiting until the work had been finished to install the new alarm system. "Having the Club on-site is a good idea," Elliott had noted as he stood in the middle of the salon watching a Prospect who was keeping a close eye on the construction crew. "But I'd feel a lot better knowing you had the place properly secured, especially when the salon is completely unoccupied."

Apparently, Oswald was not alone in his way of thinking. With news of the development corporation interested in buying the salon and its vague threats hitting the Club's radar, Opie had made a few executive decisions on his own and was one step ahead of Oswald. After the workers had left that Tuesday evening, Fawn had been sideswiped when Juice and his crew showed up after-hours ready to install the new alarm system.

"I'm not hearing it, Big Red." Opie advised in a quiet tone as Juice and several other technically-savvy patches laid out their tools and began to work. He had made a point of showing up just as the crew was getting started in order to put his little hell cat in check. "I want this shit installed now, even if it takes all night."

The fact was that Opie was worried. Even though the Club had been making every effort to locate her POS ex-boyfriend, so far they had no luck. It was starting to look like they would just have to accept that the bastard had already left the States, but until he knew for sure where the hell Max was, Opie wasn't taking any chances.

Now, however, it seemed that Max wasn't the only possible threat as they had to take Boland-Howard under consideration as well. To date, what little information Juice had been able to dig up on the developers had not been very helpful. Their website stated that the company's mandate was to bolster the economic vitality of businesses in the San Joaquin area and had listed several ongoing projects. A picture of the organization's front man, Leonard Boland displayed a man in his mid-50's with a full head of graying blond hair. Big and bulky, Boland radiated an air of confidence, which suited his reputation of being an extremely well-connected and smart businessman. A Google search had yielded no more information on the corporation than what was already on their website. It did, however, deliver on the gossip regarding Boland and his lifestyle. Several media profiles stated that Boland was well-off financially and lived in a 5-bedroom micro-mansion in a gated community of an exclusive Modesto suburb. He lived there with his second and much younger trophy wife, a son in his early twenties from his first marriage and a pair of four-year old fraternal twins from his second marriage.

Boland's partner, Leslie Howard, was a long-time crony of his, going back to their school days at USC. He too was a resident in the same suburb as his partner, but as far as Juice could tell, wasn't an active participant of the corporation. Aside from a Post Office Box, Juice could find no evidence of an actual office address, even though their website stated that it was domiciled in Stockton.

Although there was nothing to indicate that Boland-Howard had been involved in the break-in and thrashing of the salon, Jax insisted that the Club continue looking into the corporation until word of a Max sighting was heard. The thought that they could have an unknown aggressor on their hands, and a possibility of a second attack, had motivated Opie to push Juice into installing the alarm just in case.

Fawn shook her head as she eyed the newly-installed security system. It was one of the best systems on the market and exactly what their insurance guy Alan Biacone had recommended for such a low-crime area such as Charming. It didn't, however, provide any type of video surveillance, something that Redwood had suggested was necessary. Juice quickly volunteered the fact that it would be easy enough to set up a couple of webcams that hooked up directly to his security set up back at the Clubhouse.

Fawn had not been amused and had quickly shot down the suggestion. "Nobody wants to be captured in living color on closed circuit TV with aluminum foil in their hair and green shit on their face." She had retorted acidly and Opie knew that he couldn't push her any more. He had seriously considered putting real patches on salon duty instead of using Prospects, but knew that he would not only be pushing the envelope even further with his old lady but with his brothers as well. After all, lounging around a girly salon wasn't like providing security at Cara Cara, which the Club did on occasion.

Although she had nipped talk of CCTV in the bud, Fawn had agreed to video cameras at both entrances of the salon. The new alarm system was excellent and Fawn believed that, combined with the cameras, it was more than what they would actually need. With a 10-digit security panel on both the front and back doors, anyone who entered the property and didn't input the correct 5-digit security code would trip a silent alarm connected to the security firm and the Sanwa Sheriffs Morada substation. It would also send a text message to everyone on the security firm's call list informing them of a possible break-in.

While Fawn, Lexie and Tina had been set up to get the automatic alert, she was not at all surprised when Juice had added her old man's and Tig's cell phones as well. For her sake, Fawn hoped that if another break in did occur that the sheriffs would beat her old man to the scene.

_Because if Ope gets here first, his next stop will be Stockton Prison for manslaughter after he kills the assholes that broke in._

_Yeah_ , inner-Fawn agreed. _That's a man who sure as shit would kill for you._ And even though that was a thought that should repulse her, Fawn still thought it was hot as fuck.

With the construction crews gone for the day and after having sent Lexie home early to unwind since it was her turn to open early the following day, it was evening and Fawn and the Prospect Shepherd were only ones in the salon. It had been a physically as well as emotionally trying day for the partners considering that it would have been their last day before the grand opening of the salon. It royally pissed Fawn off that their plans had been wrecked, but looking on the bright side, this whole experience had opened her eyes to how wonderful and supportive her new family was. This temporary setback had given her something she hoped to have for a lifetime.

Stretching her arms over her head, Fawn cut loose with a huge yawn as her belly gave a loud groan of protest. She was hungry as all get out after inadvertently working through lunch. It was nearly 10:00, but fortunately Nicky's Diner was still open for business and she had sent the Prospect Shepherd over to pick up some grub. The little snacks currently available in the employee lounge were simply not going to cut it and since Tina and Ellie were on their way back from Stockton, she had asked Shepherd to pick up enough food for all four of them.

Although Shepherd was a newbie, Fawn was surprised by how easy it had been to convince him to make the food run, unlike Ratboy who the night before had outright refused to leave her side until Harry relieved him. In his defense, Shepherd had put up a little bit of a fight, but Fawn could be very persuasive.

"I'm perfectly fine by myself. I'll lock up behind you and turn on the alarm." She had insisted. "I'll be working upstairs, so just call me on the cell when you get back and I'll let you in."

Being hungry himself, Shepherd caved and took off, leaving his bike parked at the end of the block. As promised, Fawn locked the door and set the alarm before switching off the main lights downstairs. Fawn's tired eyes took their time adjusting to the darkness as she slowly made her way to the back of the salon and up the stairs to the administrative office. It was a little spooky being alone in such a large space in the dark, and Fawn felt a shiver run down her spine as she entered the office.

Fawn was about to flip on the light switch when she heard what she thought sounded like glass breaking. Not sure where it had come from, Fawn froze like a deer caught in the headlights as she heard muffled cursing coming from the alleyway through the open window in the office directly above the back door to the salon. Irrationally hoping that Shepherd had a change of heart about leaving her alone, Fawn refused to allow herself to consider the alternative.

"Who would be that fuckin' stupid to try and break in here again?" She muttered to herself.

Had she had any food in her stomach, Fawn was sure she would have puked as her phone chimed shrilly, indicating that she had a new text message. Quickly pulling it out, Fawn turned down the volume and her heart nearly stopped beating as she read the message on the phone's brightly lit screen.

 _"_ _This is to advise that there has been an unauthorized entry at the following address: 1632 Main Street. Please note that local law enforcement has been notified and personnel from ATR Security Systems are on the way to investigate. If the alarm has been activated in error, please enter the security code on the keypad and contact ATR personnel immediately . . ."_

"Holy shit! This can't be happening." Fawn whispered hoarsely at her phone, as if trying to convince it of its error. "Those assholes did NOT just break in again to finish gutting my salon."

_Not on my fuckin' watch!_

Fawn immediately forgot about the sheriffs. She forgot about her Redwood and the Club. All she could think about was that just as her shit was finally getting put back together again, the douche bags that had torn it all up to hell had come back to finish the job. She couldn't let that happen. Determined to defend what was hers, Fawn wasn't going to let it happen. Shoving the phone back into the pocket of her jeans, she quickly whirled around the office trying to find a weapon, wishing like hell that she had a gun.

_Absolutely fuckin' ridiculous! My old man's a gun runner and I don't have shit!_

It was dark in the office, but Fawn didn't want to take the chance of alerting the assholes to her presence by turning on the lights. Despite the almost pitch darkness, a fierce look of determination spread across her face as she made her way to a narrow closet in the far corner of the room. Opening it, she quietly unhooked the metal rod that hung across the width of the closet the partners used to hang up their coats. Tossing it back and forth in her hands, it was light but still had some good weight to it.

_Enough to knock the ever-loving shit out of anybody that comes up here._

Edging towards the office door, she bristled with anger as she heard the sounds of more glass breaking and things falling making its way upstairs. Deciding to try and shock the shit out of the intruder by heading downstairs and throwing on the lights, Fawn froze as she heard heavy footfalls pounding up the stairs.

 _This is good, so don't panic_ , inner-Fawn advised. _Just make sure to give him a sound crack on the skull._

 _Oh yes I will!_ Fawn thought gleefully as she quickly positioned herself against the wall closest to the landing.

Despite the fact that the lights were off, the streetlights shining through the two large windows at the far end and right side of the building were enough to give Fawn an unobstructed view of the day spa. Fortunately, that same light didn't quite make it to where she was standing, allowing the darkness to cloak her presence until the last moment possible. Holding the rod as if prepped to take a swing at a fast ball, Fawn's heart was nearly pounding in her chest as the adrenaline surged throughout her body.

_Come on, you filthy piece of shit! Let's do this!_

For the most part, the five senses were something many took for granted on a day-to-day basis. Seeing, hearing, smelling, touching, tasting were things Fawn did everyday without consciously thinking about it. But it was true what she had heard about senses compensating for each other when one or more was impaired. Almost blinded by the pitch darkness, her ears and nose were taking in and processing as much information as possible, permitting her to make several quick assessments in a split second. Like the fact that the intruder running up the stairs was quick and maybe even light on his feet and that he was a bit heavy-handed with the cologne he was wearing.

Literally smelling the man before he made it to the second floor landing, Fawn frowned. _A very pricey cologne too_ , she thought. _Nah, this ain't no tweaker scumbag_.

But suddenly, all thoughts of playing amateur sleuth left her head as the man burst onto the second floor. Standing stock still, Fawn held her breath as she found herself close enough to touch him. Taking note of the powerful flashlight he was carrying as he aimed it towards the front of the nail salon, she realized she had to act soon or would end up losing her upper hand. Had she been thinking more clearly Fawn could have just shoved him back down the stairs and watched him fall head over ass. Instead, she finally swung the rod at his head.

And missed.

Almost as if a sixth sense was guiding him, the man whirled away just as the rod swung inches away from the back of his skull.

"Shit!" He yelled "There's someone here!" Slamming into her, the intruder propelled Fawn against the wall. It was only then that Fawn heard the sounds of the continued destruction going on downstairs.

 _Shit! There's more than one!_ By the time she made that realization, however, Fawn had no time to deal with the brutal fact that she was outnumbered. Quickly rebounding from the wall, she lashed out again at her attacker, who had dropped his flashlight in his haste to disarm her.

"That's right, asshole! And you picked the wrong fuckin' day to piss me off!" She screeched. Swinging the rod again, Fawn managed to land a resounding blow which she had aimed at his head, but which he blocked with his arm, hitting him near the elbow instead.

"Fuck! You bitch!" He bellowed.

Setting herself up for another whack at the intruder, the rod became as slippery as a bar of soap in her suddenly-sweaty hands. Losing control of her weapon, it fell to the floor. Her attacker, who was wearing a ski mask, was tall. Dressed in all black, including a large oversized bomber jacket which disguised his frame, he quickly used his long leg to kick the rod out of her reach.

Not sure what else to do, all of a sudden, Fawn found herself grappling with the man as they first slammed into the manicure stations and then the walls and closed doors of several of the facial and massage rooms. Reliving her mosh pit fighting days at concerts when she had taken on drunken men as well as women, the fighting was fierce and intense as they shoved and kicked at each other, with Fawn punching and scratching for all she was worth.

Fawn barely felt the first of several punches to her face or the fist that slammed into her side. The stylist was in full bat shit crazy Trager mode and managing to shove her attacker away from her, she lunged at him again. With her hand in a tiger claw fist, she let it fly, hitting him dead in the face with the base of her palm, a move she had picked up from one of the self-defense classes Tina's husband had made them take several years ago. The force of her small fist was surprisingly strong and had effectively crunched the cartilage in his nose. He screamed as a gush of blood spewed out like a geyser from underneath the ski mask, signifying that she had indeed broken it.

"I'm gonna kill you, you bitch!"

Still bouncing on the balls of her feet, Fawn almost froze. Although guttural, probably due to the broken nose, and hidden behind the mask, the voice was muffled yet strangely familiar. Shaking herself back into the present, Fawn couldn't afford to lose focus now. She deftly avoided a swing of a large right fist as she ducked under his arm and followed through with a shot to the balls by a well-placed kick courtesy of her extremely pointy designer boots.

It was a solid hit and the man was howling in pain as he fell. Unfortunately, he aimed his fall just right and, before she could get out of the way, toppled on top of Fawn.

"You fuckin' crazy whore!" He scream-wheezed, having trouble breathing with a broken nose covered by a thick wool ski mask. As the two of them writhed around on the floor, Fawn's body suddenly decided to register the pain of the blows he had landed on her earlier and she felt weak.

 _Oh shit,_ she thought as she continued to wrestle with the man on the floor. _Where's Ope?! Where the fuck is Shepherd?! God, please, I need help!_

 _Stop whining and kick his fuckin' ass already!_ Inner-Fawn yelled at her. _Keep fighting until someone shows up!_

"Yeah." Fawn calmly said to herself as she bucked her body against his, trying to push him off.

With her legs kicking frantically and her arms wildly lashing out, Fawn landed several blows to his head as he desperately tried to protect his nose from further abuse. Finally managing to wedge her bent knees against his stomach, Fawn pushed with all her might and sent him reeling backwards and onto his ass, but not before several of her rings snagged on the material covering his face. As he fell back a good six feet, Fawn yanked her hand free.

And pulled off the ski mask along with it.

Fawn's eyes widened in shock as her eyes recognized the man who was trying to beat the living shit out of her. "You fuckin' piece of shit!" She screamed.

Realizing that his identity was no longer a secret, the man scrambled to his feet and lunged towards Fawn. Still somewhat stunned, Fawn's reaction time had slowed down considerably and the intruder managed to grab her and yank her roughly towards him, face-to-bloody face.

Although she continued to struggle, the intruder held her firmly against him and bent to growl in her ear. "Bet you didn't expect to see me again, huh?"

 _Fuck me! This is definitely a game changer_ , Fawn said to herself.

Now truly afraid for her life, Fawn's first thought was that what her current situation called for was more blood. She could almost hear her father coaching her from the sidelines.

 _Fawnzy, just remember that in a fight, anything goes. Just do it to them before they do it to you. Oh, and biting is always permissible_.

In a haze of desperation, Fawn found herself opening her mouth and latching onto the meaty part of the intruder's ear. Her eyes widened in disgusted shock as she felt more than heard the crunch of yet more cartilage as her jaw clamped down on the offending ear. Shaking her head like a rabid dog as the intruder yelled obscenities at her, Fawn pulled away with a mouthful of blood and a partially severed ear. Spitting it out over the intruder's shoulder, she broke loose and tried to make a run for the stairs, but was quickly tackled to the ground.

Roughly pulling her onto her back, the man straddled her, blood dripping onto Fawn from both his nose and ear. "You fuckin' bitch!" He growled as he backhanded her once, then again, in rapid succession. Fawn felt the inside of her lip split again as her blood mixed in with his. Not only had he knocked the wind out of her when she fell, but now her vision was blurred and she was having trouble breathing as he pushed down on her.

"You wanna play dirty, whore?" He said, an almost maniacal edge to his voice. "Then we play dirty my way." He flashed her a bloody grin as he ripped her shirt open.

"No!" Fawn gasped, lashing out again with her hands balled up into tiny fists. She was starting to panic now as he moved to unzip her pants. She almost clipped him on the nose and he slapped her hard again. Before Fawn could lash out with her other hand, she suddenly found her arm caught in a vise-like grip as her attacker slammed it into the base of one of the pedicure stations.

Fawn cut loose with a scream as she first heard the bone in her arm breaking and then felt the searing pain of it.

"You keep fighting," He warned. "And it'll only get worse."

Despite the sheer panic she was feeling and the pain in her arm as well as her body, Fawn renewed her efforts to fight him off, now in deadly earnest. But she was getting tired. She just couldn't lash out anymore while trying to protect her arm from further damage. Then the reality of her situation started to make its way to her brain.

 _I'm not getting out of this_ , she thought, struggling to keep herself from crying. That is, until she heard the faint sound of sirens. _Please God, don't let me be imagining this shit._

Soon it became clear, however, that sirens weren't the only thing she heard. Closer and louder still was the heavy pounding of someone running up the stairs. Suddenly, Fawn felt the weight of her attacker's body being lifted off of her, followed by the sound of the man being backhanded onto the floor.

 _Opie! Thank God._ Lifting her head, she could barely make out the second figure as her vision was still clouded. _Please kill the fucker. I sure as shit wish you had the first time you beat his ass._

Instead, Fawn heard the sound of a brusque but panicked and unfamiliar voice, the accomplice from downstairs. She dimly noted the pale face of the man who had pulled his mask up so that it rested on his forehead. He stooped over her and Fawn flinched as he moved to brush the hair away from her bloody face.

"It's okay," He tried to soothe her and winced as he touched the large gash splitting her bottom lip open. Straightening up, he pulled the mask back down to cover his face. "You stupid asshole! What the fuck were you thinking?!" Extending a hand to the man he had just slapped, he pulled Fawn's attacker back onto his feet. "I think you must have tripped some alarm. We have to go. Now!"

But wresting away from his partner-in-crime, the second man was unable to stop Fawn's attacker from first kicking her in the side twice, breaking two ribs. Then, for his final assault, he grabbed a heavy metal pot used to melt paraffin wax that was sitting in a neat display on a nearby table.

"Pay back is a bitch. I bet you're regretting that shit now, right?" Raising the pot up, he swung it backhanded into the side of Fawn's head.

And her world suddenly went black.


	34. Waiting to Exhale

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

SAMCRO's behemoth VP sat stoically in a chair. His red-rimmed eyes were focused, yet unseeing and if he heard the whispered chatter of his companions or the flurry of activity around the Nurses' Station directly opposite, he didn't acknowledge it. SAMCRO's crazy-eyed SAA, however, was dangerously close to getting tossed out of the surgical unit's waiting room. His brothers were doing what they could to calm him down, but he continued his frenetic pacing back and forth as he ranted and raved about burning St. Thomas to the ground. He was making a lot of the medical personnel extremely nervous, but those closest to him knew that while Opie Winston wallowed silently in his grief, Tig Trager had his barely contained under the mask of fury and rage.

To Opie it seemed like a lifetime ago, but it had been only months since the members of the mother charter had gathered in this very room and in grim silence held vigil for their fallen brother. Now, as he sat as unmovable and rigid as stone, there was only one thought running through his mind.

_I first met Fawn in this very hospital. Please God, don't make me say goodbye to her here too. I can't. Not again._

Opie felt, but didn't acknowledge the person who sat down next to him, or the small hand they gently placed on his knee. Instead, his mind was bent on torturing him by replaying the horror show that had greeted him at the end of his mad dash to the salon, only to get there too damn late.

* * *

_It was the middle of the week and getting late, but the Clubhouse was packed to almost capacity as usual. Although the smallest of all SOA charters, the Redwood Original boasted an impressive roster of members from all walks of life. Most were blue collar and, at one time or another, had their run-ins with the law, but not all had served hard time and not all participated in gun-running. Some had old ladies and families, while others had ex-wives and children they saw only on special occasions, and there were even those that had no families at all, except for SAMCRO. What they all did have in common, however, was a love of Harleys, the freedom to live life as they saw fit, and brotherhood and not necessarily in that order either._

_After a day spent working with Tig and Chibs at the warehouse, the SAMCRO VP had decided to unwind by enjoying the camaraderie of his brothers. He was playing a game of pool with Clay while he waited for word from his old lady calling it a night. Fawn had taken to leaving her car parked outside the salon on most nights, opting instead to ride home with him. Opie smiled to himself as he realized that, lately, "home" to Fawn meant his house, not hers. Since getting her crow, Fawn had yet to spend a night at her place, usually crashing with Opie in his dorm or at the Winstons'. Although they had yet to acknowledge to each other that they were actually cohabitating, the fact that he usually woke up nowadays with the pony she insisted was a dog licking his face confirmed that they were indeed evolving into a family._

_Apparently, the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. What had started out as a friendly and impromptu game had quickly evolved into Opie losing almost all of the money in his pocket. Clay, a lifelong pool shark, had all but retired the mantle to his daughter once his arthritis had worsened. It now amazed Opie to see that the old biker had not only managed to regain the dexterity of his hands after the surgery, but had regained his skill with a pool cue as well. Clay had been playing pretty solidly all night as he hustled a number of brothers stupidly willing to take him on, only to fail miserably. That is, until Opie decided to hustle the Hustler by allowing the Prospect to join the game._

_Now, the VP couldn't help but smirk with pride as Harry took his seventh shot since opening with the break. His son was sinking shots like a pro, his last one taking out two balls in both the side right and corner pockets._

" _Damn, shithead! You been practicing?" Clay snarked as he leaned against his pool cue and watched Harry line up his next shot._

_The young man looked up with a wry grin as he shrugged a shoulder. "Hey, Aunt Jo can teach more than just math, you know. She may have shown me one or two of her moves." He grinned in appreciation as Darcy, one of the Club's sweetbutts, propped her plump ass sporting Daisy Dukes on the corner of the pool table. With a look that promised a whole lot of sin to go along with that body, she held out a bottle of cold beer for the young man. Harry cocked a questioning glance at his old man._

" _What the fuck you looking at me for, Prospect?" Opie responded gruffly. "You waiting on my permission?"_

" _Uh, hell no, Pop. Just wanna make sure you ain't gonna rat my ass out to Fawn." Harry took the proffered beer from Darcy with a wink. "It's just one beer and, besides, I need this shit. Whipping two old biker geezers at pool is thirsty work." He had just brought the bottle to his lips when his father's prepay went off in his kutte. "Damn, I betcha that's her, too. Talk about a sixth sense." Harry snarked before swallowing a couple of healthy gulps of the icy beer._

_However, the young Prospect's eyes widened as he noted the sudden fear-tinged rage that flashed across his father's face as he read the message on his phone. "Shit! The salon's being hit."_

_Opie's loud pronouncement brought a halt to all conversations in the Main Room as patches, hang-arounds, and prospects alike realized that something was seriously wrong._

" _How could that be?" Harry questioned as he set his pool cue down. "Ain't Fawn over there now?"_

_His question went unanswered as everyone heard the pounding of steel-toed boots on the Club's hardwood floor as the SAA hit the Main Room running. "Gear up, brothers!" Tig hollered. "We gotta head over to my kid's shop now!"_

_Hearing the commotion, Jax exited the Chapel, Bobby and Big Otto trailing after him, only to see his VP leading a sea of leather towards the Clubhouse exit._

" _Fawn's place is being hit right now!" Clay bellowed. "And last anyone's heard, she's still down there." With that, the entire Club emptied out into the parking lot as everyone ran for their bikes._

_As they tore out of the lot and down the street, Opie felt his heart pounding in his chest. He tried convincing himself that his old lady was alright, that someone had tripped the alarm by mistake, but his gut told him he was lying to himself. As soon as he had received the automated text message from the security company, Opie had tried calling her cell phone twice with no answer. Fawn had another late-night session planned with Tina and Ellie, but they were still on their way back from Stockton._

_Coming to a stop in front of the salon, Opie's face tightened into a grimace as he spotted two police cruisers just pulling in from the opposite direction. Other than the four deputy sheriffs that jumped out of their cars—two heading towards the salon and two running across the street—there was no other activity on the street. The front doors looked secure but all the lights inside were out, which he found a little strange._

_Maybe Big Red closed up early, Opie thought hopefully. She probably called it a night and headed home without telling me, he tried reasoning with himself, especially since her car wasn't parked out front._

_Opie had almost convinced himself of the possibility until Tig dashed his false hope away._

" _Shit, bro! Look across the street!" Tig yelled as he pulled his bike parallel to Opie's. Letting his eyes follow to where Tig directed, Opie's brow furrowed further as he saw two officers peering through the completely smashed in storefront of one of the shops across the street. "Something's wrong, VP!" Tig called out over the roar of the bikes arriving on the scene. "Fawnzy still here? I don't see her car."_

_It was possible that anyone stupid enough to break into the salon again might still be on the scene, but not for long with all the racket now blaring on Main Street._

" _Take some brothers and head around the back from the other end of the street. We'll box these fuckers in." Opie ordered as he gunned his motor._

" _Hell yeah!" Tig called out and cut loose with a war whoop as he revved his bike._

_Signaling to several patches to follow, Tig gunned it down the block, bypassing the police cruisers, and hung a left. They quickly streaked by the two officers that were ordering them to stop. Paying no attention, Opie backtracked up the block the way he had come to head around to the alleyway with Jax, Big Otto, Bobby, and Tiki following close behind. As Opie approached the salon's back door located in the middle of the block, he felt his heart jump into his throat as he saw the door standing agape and a mess of shattered glass._

" _Shit!" Jax hissed as he jumped off of his bike and pulled his Glock from the shoulder harness under his kutte in one smooth motion. "Everybody arm up!" He ordered, but his best friend had already pulled out his Sig Sauer P229 and was heading through the door._

_Pressed up against the side of the wall, Opie reached over to slap a hand on the master set of switches, flooding the darkened salon with light._

" _Damn it." He growled under his breath. He could hear the sound of running water coming from the shampoo area but, aside from a couple of broken vases, Opie didn't see any other damage._

_Suddenly, Opie and his brothers stopped all movement as they heard an authoritative voice. "Stand down!" Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Caine ordered as he and four deputies entered the salon behind SAMCRO with their own weapons drawn. The Sanwa Sheriffs quickly found themselves outnumbered two-to-one, however, as Tig and his small crew also entered through the back door. "What the fuck you think you're doing?!" Caine yelled as he and his officers found themselves staring down the barrels of ten huge hand cannons. "This is a crime scene and you are ordered to stand down right now!"_

" _Fuck you, asshole! This is my kid's shop, so YOU stand the fuck down!" Tig ordered as he shoved his way past Caine._

" _You will let us do our jobs or I'll have all your asses locked up for obstruction." The young officer threatened confidently. "The last thing anyone needs is a bunch of so-called vigilante heroes compromising a potential crime scene. So are we gonna waste time pissing on each other's shoes or are you gonna let us investigate, maybe catch some perps?"_

_Seeing that Tig was itching to pull the trigger and that Opie was about to explode, Jax cut in. "It's a'ight, brothers. Stand down." He ordered his Club and then turned to Caine. "We're pulling back, but be quick about this shit. We just want to make sure that all of our women are safe. We haven't heard from Fawn and she was supposed to be working late tonight."_

" _Fine." Caine replied brusquely and then turned to face his deputies. "Martinez, take Tyler upstairs and do a thorough sweep. Polaski and Jones, check out the rest of the first floor." He then looked at Jax, Tig and Opie. "You three can stay, but the rest of your crew has to wait outside. Now."_

_Opie glared at the man, but nodded his consent and watched as his brothers slowly exited the salon._

_Even now, the salon was eerily quiet and a sense of unease settled over Opie like a blanket. Where the fuck can she be? He thought and pulled out his phone to call Fawn yet again. He had just pressed her number on the speed dial when one of the officers came flying back down the stairs. The blond young deputy was deathly pale as he darted over to his commanding officer._

" _Sir," Tyler started, slightly out of breath. "We need an ambulance. There's a woman upstairs and she's hurt bad—"_

_With a roar, the young man found himself tackled to the ground as Opie lunged for the stairs, taking them three at a time as Tig and Jax ran right behind him._

_As he bounded up the final steps, Opie whirled his head around in a panic before his eyes finally focused on the other officer crouched over a body on the floor. Opie couldn't remember making it over to that end of the salon and only later would he recall tackling Deputy Martinez, sending him airborne before slamming into the marble floor._

_Falling to his knees over the crumpled heap on the floor, Opie felt something break inside of him. Barely recognizable if not for her flaming red hair, his old lady was lying in a pool of her own blood coming from an ugly gash on the side of her head. She was pale, her shirt practically ripped from her and her beautiful long limbs twisted in a macabre pose, her right arm in particular bent at an odd angle. Opie felt the keening wails rip open from his chest as he threw his long body down next to her, pulling her battered and broken body into his arms as he rocked and wailed with grief._

_It had taken Jax, Tig and two officers to pull Opie off of her body as his best friend desperately tried to get him to understand that Fawn was still alive._

* * *

Now, as the slow-simmering rage in his heart burned a hole in his chest, Opie vaguely heard the sound of a woman crying softly. Finally allowing himself to focus on his surroundings, he saw a weeping Tina gently rocking Ellie in her arms as she tried to comfort his daughter while struggling with her own grief. Ellie, her head on Tina's bosom, was crying silent tears as her brother, more Opie's twin than hers, sat next to them, his cold stone face betraying none of his own fear.

Suddenly, Opie felt someone tugging on his hands. Looking down, he watched as Jolene Teller gently removed his leather gloves—gloves that were covered with his old lady's blood. Before he could stop himself, Opie let out a sob that ripped itself out of his chest. He gritted his teeth as he fought to hold onto his shit.

Placing the gloves on the chair next to her, Jolene gripped one of Opie's large hands with both of her own. "Just hold on, Sasquatch." She whispered, her voice suddenly cracking with emotion. "Please hold on."

_Dear God, we can't lose her now._

* * *

Nearly two hours had passed since Fawn had been brought by ambulance to St. Thomas and her father's patience had long since evaporated as he waited for word on her condition.

Living the life he had willingly chosen, Tig had seen his share of blood and mayhem. Fuck, he has caused much of it his own damn self, but he had been hardened by the Life and no amount of pain and suffering had an affect on him anymore. Or so he had thought. Nothing Tig had ever done or seen before could have ever prepared him for the sight of his youngest daughter's beaten and battered body lying in a pool of her own blood.

Although he had come close to losing Fawnzy once before when she had overdosed at seventeen, the first time Tig had seen her had been after the doctors had saved her life. Fawn had looked pale, skinny and strung out then, but there was no doubt that she was alive. Seeing her for the first time after the attack, however, lying on the floor of the nail salon had shattered Tig because like Opie he was convinced she was dead and once again he had been unable to stop it from happening.

Tig had barely climbed out of the black hole he had fallen into four years ago after Donna Winston's death. Watching Opie's devastation as he keened over Fawn's broken body had taken the SAA back to that horrible day at the Taste of Charming festival. Even now, as Tig tried to funnel his own grief through a tough outer layer, he was bordering on completely losing his grip on reality. He knew he wouldn't be able to see his brother through another loss, not when it was this close to home.

For the first time in a long time, Tig felt not only helpless, but hopeless. Having learned the hard way through his years of service in the Marines and the Sons that such emotions could get him killed, Tig Trager had only one way of dealing with those feelings. He needed to hurt someone. That was why it was of no little surprise that the SAA now found himself sitting quietly in the waiting room. His rage was still coiled tight in the pit of his stomach, but it was something of a shock to his brothers how in control he was.

 _Tina Giamatti is some kind of woman_ , Clay thought as he watched the couple. With her slim arm looped through Tig's, Tina leaned into him, her chin resting on his shoulder as she whispered comfort into his ear.

Tig had been on fire. Unable to contain his shit, scared for his baby, all he could see in his mind's eye was Fawn's pale-as-death face as the EMTs worked to stabilize her as he terrorized the overworked staff of the surgical unit.

"What the fuck is going on?!" He had raged at one of the nurses behind the station, who looked as if in fear of her life as the crazy with grief man loomed over her.

It was then that Tina had stepped in. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder to gently pull him to face her and, reaching around his waist, she embraced him gently. Frozen at first and unwilling to accept her comfort and affection, Tig finally caved as he slowly wrapped his arms around Tina, tucking the smaller woman tightly to him as her head snuggled underneath his chin, his body trembled with sobs that he would not allow to escape.

It was suddenly quiet in the hallways as his brothers and their families, who had spilled out into the corridors at the sound of a commotion, watched with something akin to awe as the woman quieted the fierce outlaw biker, something that no one else had been able to do.

Pulling slowly out of his embrace, Tina grabbed his hand and gently guided him inside to the far corner of the waiting room, gesturing for a couple of patches to rise so that they could sit down. Pushing Tig down onto a small sofa, Tina waved a hand to Bobby, and Clay watched as she whispered in the shaggy-haired man's ear before he turned away as Tina took a seat next to his brother. A short time later, Bobby returned with a couple of cups of hot coffee, one of which he passed to Tig and which he took without comment, except to offer a nod of thanks.

"It's been an awfully long time, Clay." Gemma said in a quiet, yet anxious tone. "We should have heard something by now."

"I know, baby." Clay replied as he squeezed his old lady's hand. "Hopefully we'll hear something soon."

As if someone had heard his wish, a tall woman wearing a pair of green scrubs walked into the waiting room and headed towards the SAA. Dr. Lauren Shay was new to St. Thomas as well as Charming, having only been in town for a couple of months. Only becoming aware of the local MC after she had accepted the hospital's offer, Dr. Shay raised an eyebrow as she took in the army of leather that quickly crowded around her, obviously anxious to hear her report.

"Mr. Trager?" She asked quietly as her eyes darted among the crowd.

Tig leaped to his feet. "Yeah, that's me, Doc." Tig replied. In the corner, Opie did the same and strode over to face the doctor. "What's going on with my kid?"

"Fawn is in the ICU. At the moment, she's in critical, but stable condition." The young doctor answered.

 _She's alive, thank God_ , Opie felt the vise that had held his heart in a tight grip loosen with a little relief.

"What's the damage?" Opie demanded.

Turning to face the giant biker, Dr. Shay's eyes widened. "And you are?" She asked.

"He's her old man." Tig quickly vouched for Opie. "Please, Doc, what are we dealing with here?"

Looking around at all the stony faces waiting for her response, the doctor turned her attention back to Tig. "If you prefer, we can discuss this in private—"

"No, damn it! This is her family." Tig raged as he clenched his fists. "Just tell us."

Dr. Shay didn't know the circumstances by which Fawn Trager had come by her injuries. Looking around the assembled group of rough looking bikers, she reasoned with herself that the possibility existed that the person responsible could be among them. Not noticing any telltale outward injuries on any of the men surrounding her, Dr. Shay took a deep breath and started, "Your daughter was the victim of a particularly brutal assault, Mr. Trager, but she put up one hell of a fight. She has a number of broken fingernails and quite a bit of blood on her that wasn't her own. Whoever her attacker was, I'm sure he's in need of medical attention himself."

Tig nodded proudly. "That's my girl."

"Your daughter has three broken ribs, two on the left and one on the right side. Her right wrist is also broken and she suffered a significant amount of contusions and bruises." Dr. Shay explained, hesitated and then continued. "Since Fawn was unconscious when she arrived we were unable to question her, but there were indicators present that could have been the result of a sexual assault—"

"What?!" Opie roared. "You think she was raped?" He managed to ask without the tears welling in his eyes running down his cheeks.

"No—I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." Dr. Shay started.

Taking a deep breath, Opie replied, "Opie Winston."

"Mr. Winston, I can assure you we have ruled that possibility out. Like I said, she fought tooth and nail." The doctor said reassuringly. "Right now, our main concern is with her head injury. Ms. Trager was struck with a large blunt instrument on the side of her head, which caused her to bleed into her brain. Although the bleeding has stopped, she has a subdural hematoma, a large blood clot, and as a result is comatose." Dr. Shay advised as the crowd murmured in shock. "This is not unusual for the kind of injury she suffered, but we will continue to monitor her situation and hope that she will regain consciousness on her own."

Jax placed a comforting hand on Opie's shoulder. "How long will that take?" He asked.

"As you can imagine, it's hard to predict, but considering that the bleeding has stopped on its own so quickly gives us hope that her brain is healing itself. It could be hours, a couple of days or even weeks."

"What if the blood clot doesn't heal itself?" Jolene asked with trepidation.

The doctor sighed. "Then we'll have to go in and relieve the pressure."

"You mean you gonna drill a hole in her fuckin' skull?" Tig asked in shock.

"That's the worst case scenario, Mr. Trager. Right now, she's stable and getting the best care we have." Dr. Shay assured him as she put her hand on Tig's arm. "I'm anxious for your daughter to wake up too, so she can identify the bastard who did this to her. Whoever it was needs to be caught and put away. That animal needs to pay for what he did to her."

"No need to worry, Doc," Opie replied grimly. "He will."

* * *

The life of an MC President wasn't easy. Having to be strong for his brothers could be difficult at times. After all, they were family and what affected one, affected all. When shit happened, however, Jax Teller had always reasoned that as outlaws they had to accept the hand that was dealt to them. They had to accept the good as well as the bad because they had each made the conscious choice to live their lives on the fringes of society. But when it came to their women, the bad was always a lot harder to accept. Although it was up to each old lady to either support her old man or not, most always did because of love. While Jax couldn't imagine his life without Jolene, there had been times when his old lady had bore the brunt of decisions made by the Club that had him wishing he were strong enough to let her go, if only because he loved her so much.

In this instance, however, it was likely that Fawn's own past had reared its ugly head. With this new set of circumstances and with his VP and SAA out of commission for the time being, Jax was trying to do the best he could to keep Fawn and the Club out of the Sheriff's crosshairs as he faced off against the angry lawman. The sun had risen, bringing with it a brand new day, but nothing new as to who was responsible for the attack on one of SAMCRO's own. The new day had also brought along with it just one of the many headaches Jax would have to deal with before this whole situation was over. Sheriff Roosevelt was angry and demanding answers, which Jax would never be in a position to provide. With the exception of the Club's close relationship with the now-retired former Chief of Charming PD Wayne Unser, the Club never sought help from or cooperated with any form of law enforcement. They weren't about to start now. They could handle their own shit.

"So you're telling me that you have no fuckin' clue as to identity of the perps," Roosevelt demanded, his arms crossed over his broad chest as he and two other sheriffs coldly eyed SAMCRO's President outside the surgical unit waiting room. "Even though it's obvious they have a hard-on for a business with ties to your Club."

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling ya." Jax replied irritably. "Since when is the Sheriffs Department so eager to work with SAMCRO? Because if you're trying to deputize me, I'm not interested. I'm not a fuckin' investigator and I don't know shit about CSI."

 _Somehow I find that rather unlikely_ , Roosevelt thought as he eyed the alpha male.

Jax Teller was standing with his feet shoulder-width apart, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans near his SAMCRO belt buckle. The look in his intense blue eyes betrayed nothing as he contemplated the opposition. As far as the Club was concerned, Roosevelt knew he was and would always be the enemy.

Over the years, the Sheriff had not come any closer to understanding the Sons of Anarchy. Eli had put all of the knowledge he had culled during his years on the Oakland Gang Task Force to bear on the biker outlaws and had little to no success in breaking the Club. Either SAMCRO wasn't the threat that people like Mayor Jacob Hale claimed they were or the Club had mastered covering their tracks during their forty-plus years of existence.

Eli knew the latter to be true, but so far had been unable to crack the code that bound these men together. At the very least, all he could really say about the situation was that of all the cities in Sanwa County, Charming had very little by way of crime. What little the town experienced from time to time was minor in nature, more to do with bored teenagers cruising up and down the streets and causing trouble on a Saturday night.

Violent crime in Charming was virtually nonexistent and in spite of how much Mayor Hale wished to credit local law enforcement for the low crime rate, Eli knew that the Sons had policed their hometown quite efficiently, tackling quality of life issues and keeping major crime outside its borders. SAMCRO actually left very little policing for the Sheriffs Department to do. As a result, Roosevelt and his men spent most of their time when not writing parking tickets on Main Street, responding to calls for help and investigating crime in the towns of Modesto, Pope and Lodi.

Bad news travels in a small town like shit down a toilet—quick and fast. It was no surprise that the recent attacks on local businesses, with the latest one resulting in the hospitalization and serious condition of one of its residents, was big news in Charming. Even though barely a week had passed since the first incident, Roosevelt already had Mayor Hale breathing down his neck, unable to understand why his officers had yet to make any arrests.

After this second and more violent attack on the salon, Eli had stood outside _Stems and Bulbs_ this morning as the Mayor ripped him a new one, all for the benefit of the news media that had congregated on Main Street overnight. The pressure was on full throttle as Hale tasked him with finding a connection between the attacks and SAMCRO. According to the Mayor, it was the ultimate opportunity to drive the final nail into the coffin of the MC, whose lifestyle he considered outdated, a throwback to the 1960s counterculture which no longer fit the image of the town that was on the verge of a renaissance.

Spending most of the night before at the crime scene, Eli had barely snagged a couple hours of sleep before he was already on the job again and taking lead on the case from Deputy Mitchell Caine. The first attack on Fawn Trager's salon had been serious enough, but with the young woman now in a coma and his wife's own business in virtual ruins, this had become a personal matter for Sheriff Roosevelt.

 _Just like it was for SAMCRO_ , he pondered.

As a lawman, it wasn't always easy to stay detached and unaffected by some of the shit he was exposed to. That was a skill that was acquired over time, but when that shit hits this close to home Eli could bring himself to sympathize with SAMCRO. After all, even though the damage to Rita's shop had been substantial—all windows and the refrigerated display cases destroyed beyond repair—his wife was healthy and whole and at this very moment probably cursing up a storm as she tackled clean-up.

Jax Teller, Opie Winston, and Tig Trager might find it hard to believe, but Eli had a vested interest in finding the pieces of shit that had brought this sort of horror to their town. The Sheriff actually liked the feisty young redhead and what happened to her had struck a raw nerve with him, especially as he investigated the crime scene. It was obvious that Fawn Trager had fought for her life and had caused no little damage to her attacker. Eli was actually looking forward to getting his hands on the dirt bag. Although he would make sure that justice was served by seeing this man stand trial and punished accordingly, it wasn't uncommon for perps to get quite "clumsy" while in police custody. Many an "alleged" criminal suddenly developed the habit of "falling" and hurting "themselves" by "accident".

"No need to worry, Mr. Teller. In spite of your MC's do-good reputation among some of the residents of Charming, I don't think there's any reasonable way to justify deputizing a bunch of lawless gun runners. The Mayor would have my badge within the hour." Eli retorted.

"Ah, so there always is a bright side to every situation." Jax replied cheekily.

Eli gave him a tight smile. "Although I am not interested in having you do my job for me, I would appreciate your cooperation in the investigation." The Sheriff explained. "Any information, no matter how small or insignificant, can help us. What happened to Ms. Trager cannot go unpunished—"

"And I have great faith that it won't." Jax said noncommittally.

"I'm sure you do." Roosevelt replied knowingly. "You've probably heard by now that my wife's shop was also hit last night."

"I did, and I was very sorry to hear that." Jax said sincerely.

"Thanks." Sheriff Roosevelt nodded at the younger man. "I'm sure you can appreciate my concern when I say that I want to find Ms. Trager's attacker before something like this happens again."

"I can, but at this point, you probably know more than I or anyone else in my Club does." Jax lied convincingly. "I can't help you, Sheriff, especially since my main concern right now is for my brother and his old lady. I'm afraid you're going to have to do your job all on your own."

"Oh, I don't have a problem with that at all, Mr. Teller." Roosevelt replied tersely, his dark brown eyes boring holes into Jax's blue ones. "As a matter of fact, that's just how I prefer it, but do let me make one thing clear for you. My duty is to protect the citizens of Charming and I am _not_ about to let the shit that went down in this town four years ago happen on my watch. Innocent people were hurt because of your Club and once again one of your women is paying the price. If SAMCRO had anything to do with what happened to Ms. Trager and to my wife's shop, I'll be coming after your Club and _anyone_ who had a hand in this clusterfuck, and you can bet sure 'nuff that my word is as good as gold on that." Roosevelt said ominously before he turned on his heel and left, his officers following behind him.

Stopping at the elevator bank, Eli addressed his deputies without facing them in case Teller was still watching. "I want you two to stay here and patrol the floor. I'll have someone relieve you when your shift is over. The moment Fawn Trager regains consciousness I want to know about it. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." The two officers replied in unison.

The Sheriff believed in following up on hunches. In the past, his instincts had often served him well, but right now, he was at war with those very instincts. With the Mayor spilling nothing but shit in his ear about the Club, Roosevelt knew he was being pressured to put the blame on the MC for the attack last night. His experience working with the Gang Task Force, however, had taught Eli that it was possible for certain criminal organizations to operate honorably in some respects. With SAMCRO, he would say that the Club had good intentions when it came to the town, and after what had gone down over four years ago, it was highly unlikely that they would allow shit like that happen again.

As he exited the hospital and made his way to his squad car, Eli's eyes narrowed as he reconsidered carefully what his wife had shared with him several days ago. It was possible that there was another reason entirely that could explain the attacks. The only way to know for sure was to completely and objectively investigate all possible leads and clues. At that, he reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out the business card his wife had given him. Sliding into his squad car, Eli was frustrated to realize that he was letting Mayor Hale's own bias against the Sons of Anarchy taint his investigation.

"It seems that Jax Teller's right. I _do_ have some cop shit to do." Eli said sardonically to no one in particular as he shoved the card back into his pocket before pulling out of the hospital's parking lot on a course back to the station house.

* * *

It was late afternoon when the third floor waiting room at St. Thomas nearly turned into a war zone.

The day was bright and clear despite the grim atmosphere that had settled over those still gathered in the waiting room. Both Opie and Tig sat together silently, neither having much to say. Earlier that morning, they had met with Dr. Shay for an update on Fawn's condition. Although the blood clot had not increased in size, the swelling of her brain had not yet subsided and she was still unconscious. For the most part, her condition had remained stable, but unchanged during the long night.

Having spent most of the day taking turns with his immediate family and his brothers so that everyone who wanted to spend a few minutes with Fawn got the chance, Opie was feeling and looked beaten down emotionally. He was having a tough time reconciling himself with the battered condition of his old lady. He couldn't get the image out of his head and the only thing that kept him going was knowing that she was still alive, that her heart was still beating and that she was a fighter. God knows he had gone a number of rounds with her—too many to count. Opie also knew how much they loved each other and that Fawn wouldn't give up on him.

But seeing her for the first time had nearly broken him. Fawn was a tall and voluptuous woman with beautiful curves for miles, yet she had looked so small and fragile stretched out on the hospital bed in the semi-darkened room that Opie had almost lost it. Her face, not her normally peaches and cream complexion, was sallow and pale with angry black and blue bruising marring her delicate features. Her bottom lip, which had been split open, was puffy with stitches and her left eye was still swollen shut. Opie couldn't see much of her hair as her head was wrapped in bandages, but the nurse had assured him that she still had most of it. Only the underside above her right ear had been shaved so that they could clean her wounds and assess the damage.

 _When Big Red wakes up, she's gonna be_ _pissed_ , Opie had smiled to himself as he gently caressed her face, doing his best to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that countered with _if she wakes up_.

Trying his best to suppress negative thoughts as he held her hand in his, Opie couldn't hold back any longer. Out of the view of his brothers, he finally allowed his silent tears to fall as Tig bent over to gently kiss his daughter on the forehead.

"You gonna be okay, Fawnzy. Anybody who gave that shithead a good fight ain't gonna stay down for long. And I promise ya, whoever this fucker is, he's gonna get his." Tig said softly as he swiped the tears off his face. "I promise ya."

But Fawn didn't answer. She couldn't and both men, after their 15 minutes were up, did the best to remove the vestiges of their grief before exiting the room to allow others to take their turn visiting with Fawn.

"Opie?"

The VP lifted his head to face Tina's concerned one. Fawn's surrogate mother had spent the night at the hospital, refusing to leave her side. In the morning, using her cell phone and iPad, Tina had worked in the hospital's chapel to plot and coordinate with Lexie their next move regarding the salon. Not only did it keep her mind occupied, but Tina knew that Fawn's first concern when she came to would be the salon. Tina wanted to be able to give her friend some good news, and even though Lexie had fought her tooth and nail to stay by Fawn's side, she finally caved, insisting that she would be back later in the day.

 _Momma T has a knack for getting her way_ , Opie had thought as he absently watched her bully Lexie into going home the night before for some rest.

Now, it looked as if Tina was setting her sight on Opie and Tig, who were sitting silently in the waiting room with their brothers, as she approached them with Jolene in tow. It was still strange for Opie to see both women side by side and it was quite unnerving to have two sets of identical seafoam green eyes fixed on him with determination.

"Yeah, Momma T?" Opie replied.

Hearing the fatigue in his voice, both women sighed simultaneously.

"I think it's time you and Tig went to the Club." Tina's tone brooked no argument. "The two of you aren't doing anybody a damn bit of good staying here and exhausting yourself. Isn't that right, Jolene?"

"Absolutely." The SAMCRO Queen replied evenly. "Ratboy is waiting outside with the cargo van to take both of you back to the lot. Bobby has a big pot of chili on the stove ready for you to eat. You two desperately need something in your stomach besides stale coffee, a shower and a couple of hours sleep. After you do all that, then you can come back. I promise we'll call you the moment Fawn wakes up." Jolene urged.

"I ain't leaving her." Opie said quietly and his brother nodded his agreement.

"I ain't that hungry anyway." Tig replied tiredly. However, the sudden rumbling of his stomach belied his response.

"Oh, really?" Tina said a slight smile on her face. "Somebody needs to tell that to your tummy."

"And what about you, Doll? You've been here just as long as I have." The SAA retorted.

"And as soon as you get back, I'll take my turn. I promise," Tina lied convincingly. "Besides, you really don't want Fawn waking up and seeing you looking like shit, do you?" She asked Opie.

"Maybe you're right." He mumbled.

"Of course I am." Tina counseled. Holding her hands out to both men, she smiled with satisfaction as they both took them and stood up, each bending over to kiss her gently in gratitude for her concern.

Jolene nodded approvingly at her birth mother's manipulation. _I couldn't have done a better job myself_ , she thought in admiration.

"Come on," Jolene chipped in. "I'll walk you downstairs." Looping her arms in between both men, she angled them towards the exit of the waiting room. She was the only one looking up, so when she gasped and stopped short, the two men stopped as well.

Looking down the corridor, Tig frowned as he noted a woman rapidly heading towards them. Slim and tall, wearing a navy blue pants suit, a white blouse with a rounded collar, small gold earrings and a pair of sensible pumps with wide heels, the woman quickly made her way towards the group. The only thing vibrant about her was her dark red hair, which was cut in a short bob with bangs above dark green eyes set in a pale, heart-shaped and angry face.

"Ah shit!" Tig groaned.

"Is that who I think it is?" Jolene said in a near whisper, which apparently wasn't low enough.

"If you mean am I Fawn's mother," Colleen Trager replied angrily. "Then yes, you would be right." And turning to face her old man of over thirty years, the fiery redhead hissed at her estranged husband. "This has your stink all over it, doesn't it, Alex?! You and your goddamned stupid Club!"

* * *

 _Bad shit doesn't just rain down on ya, it fuckin pours_ , Tig thought as he coldly eyed his former old lady.

He wouldn't wish Colleen Trager on his worst enemy and the last thing Tig wanted or needed was having to deal with the angry woman himself. In the state he was in, Tig couldn't be held responsible if he twisted her head right off in front of God and all these witnesses. That is, if she didn't kill him first, which at the moment seemed highly probable.

The last time he had seen Colleen had been the day he had signed Fawn out of the hospital and took her into his care for a good old fashioned detox before taking her to rehab. His estranged wife had not changed much in 11 years. Although the prim and proper attire was something he wasn't used to, she still had a youthful face. Looking at her like only he knew he could, Tig didn't have a tough time seeing the former sweetbutt he had fallen for when she was 18. Her fiery green eyes looking at him like she wanted to gut him like a fish, however, reminded Tig why once he had gone to Charming, he had stayed gone.

For the past 18-plus hours, Tig had done his best to temper his anger, tension, and worry. After all, it was obvious that his kid was well-loved and it would be unfair to take shit out on those that were agonizing over her well-being just like he was. With all the unresolved resentment between him and Colleen, Tig realized with almost perverted glee that he finally had himself a target he could take a solid shot at.

 _Just like old fuckin' times_.

Opening his mouth, he was about to verbally rip her to shreds when he noted the fear in her eyes, which she was fighting her damnedest to hide. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to pull back a little on his burning retort. There was a time and a place for everything and Tig was sure that he and Colleen would get ample opportunity to sling muddy pot shots at each other later. _After_ he knew his kid would be alright.

"Hi, Coll. Different day, same old shit. Can't say I'm not consistent, huh?"

"Ho oh oh," Colleen snickered bitterly. "You got that right. Nothing ever changes with you. You were always very good at finding a way to bring some new misery into my life, so why should I expect any different from you 30 years down the fuckin' pike?" Colleen replied bitterly before waving him away. "I'm not here to talk to you right now. I'll deal with your ass later. I'm here for my daughter, which I'm sure is probably a surprise since you couldn't even be bothered to pick up a damn phone to tell me that she's at death's fuckin' door!" She stormed as an uncomfortable silence fell over SAMCRO and the hospital staff as they watched the ugly scene unfold. One of the nurses even picked up the phone to call for the hospital's security as the years of anger and resentment spilled forth from Fawn's parents.

Any thought that he should probably cut his old lady some slack pretty much died a quick and painful death at her sniping. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?! It's been months since Fawnzy's heard from you! Why the fuck would you decide to show up now 'sides making my life more of a living hell than it already is?!"

"Maybe because _my_ daughter invited me, asshole!" Colleen shouted. "I was already in Bumfuck, California for the opening of the salon. It took some cop on the street to tell me that Fawn was in the hospital after a brutal attack!"

The SAMCRO Queen decided that it was time for her to step in and try to diffuse the situation. Pulling away from Opie, she slowly approached Colleen, holding out a hand. "I'm sorry that you had to find out about Fawn this way, but I'm sure you'd rather see her now than rip Tig a new one. Why don't I take you to see her?" Jolene offered gently. She knew crazy when she saw it.

Colleen, however, seemed immune to the young woman's solicitous request. With narrowed, distrusting eyes, she sneered. "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jolene Teller." She replied calmly. "Fawn is a dear friend and I'm sure she'd be so happy to know that you came to be by her side. Please, let's go see her now and I can fill you in on what's going on."

But Colleen Trager was unwilling to be pacified. Having driven 510 miles from Oregon after the end of a long and busy shift in the emergency room had her worn and irritable. It hadn't helped that a tractor trailer accident on the CA-139 S had forced her to seek refuge for the night in some crappy motel off the highway. Out of sheer exhaustion, Colleen ended up oversleeping and got a late start on the remaining three hour drive to Charming. She had only just arrived in town to discover that, as usual, her rebellious daughter had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire. Expecting to find Fawn's new business decked out for the grand opening, Colleen had pulled in front of a very attractive building with the entrance blocked off with crime scene tape only to be told by a cop standing outside that the owner was currently in the local hospital.

Colleen's face was grim as she eyed the four individuals facing off against her. Tig was right. She hadn't spoken to Fawn ever since she announced her decision to stay in Charming. Colleen knew her daughter well, however and was pretty sure that her love of doing hair and life in a small town weren't the only reasons she had decided to completely upend her entire life. As she looked at the giant man standing alongside her husband, Colleen knew she was looking at the real reason why.

Shortly after her last conversation with her wayward daughter, Colleen had again reached out to Jackie, one of the old ladies in the SAMTAC charter. This time Colleen refused to take no for an answer and after much hemming and hawing, Jackie had finally spilled the beans on what she had heard about Fawn. Apparently, her beauty and new status in the Club's mother charter had been the subject of the Old Lady Gossip Mill for months. Not at all surprised, Colleen had discovered that her daughter had stupidly allowed herself to get involved with a high-ranking member of SAMCRO, the very same patch that she had warned her to stay away from.

Jackie—now that Colleen had managed to get the woman to open up—had shared a good deal of information about the VP, including what she knew of his history over the last four years. At the time, none of the information had sat well with Colleen. Now, faced with the knowledge of her daughter's recent attack, she knew Fawn had used impaired judgment when she made the decision to move to Charming. If she didn't know better, she'd say Fawn was back on drugs.

"Let me guess," Colleen said, crossing her arms over her chest as she allowed her eyes to look the oversized biker up and down. "You're Opie Winston." She said as if the name left a shitty aftertaste in her mouth.

Opie met the fiery green eyes resolutely. "Yes, I am."

Colleen twisted up her mouth contemptuously. She didn't know shit from chocolate at this point, but she was sure that whatever had happened to Fawn was a direct result of her relationship with this man. Regardless of the fact that he was not only a member but an officer of an MC not to be trifled with, Colleen let Opie have it with both loaded barrels. "One dead old lady wasn't enough for you?! You have to drag my daughter down into an early grave too?!"

Seeing the shocked anger on Jolene and Tig's faces and the painful regret in Opie's eyes, Tina Giamatti came close to losing her shit. Bounding forward she quickly came to the defense of a man she had grown to love like a son.

"Opie is no more responsible for what happened to Fawn than I am." Tina charged. "I understand you're upset and as Fawn's mother you have every right to be, but you really need to step back and calm down."

Colleen turned to face the smaller woman. With her lip curled in disgust, she looked Tina over from head to toe, noting the tight jeans, clingy blouse, and leather jacket over an undeniably shapely and fit body. "And who the fuck are you? No doubt one of _my husband's_ tarts."

Tig opened his mouth to respond, but Tina quickly cut him off. "I don't give a shit who you think I am. All I know is that I'm someone that loves Fawn too much to be causing unnecessary drama right outside the ICU where she's lying in critical condition." Tina said evenly as she looked into the eyes of the woman who used the threat of killing her own children as a bargaining chip against her husband. It didn't matter that Tina herself had been no better as a mother. At least she had learned from her mistakes and been given the chance to reconcile with her daughter. Tina was quickly learning that the Colleen Trager she had heard stories about from both Fawn and her father paled in comparison to this red-haired demon and Fawn deserved better than that.

Although Fawn had brushed off not receiving any response from her mother to the grand opening invitation she had sent, Tina knew that it had deeply hurt the young woman. It had made Tina angry enough to consider flying to Oregon just so she could bitch slap Colleen, hopefully knocking some sense into her during the process. Now, after finally showing up to do right by Fawn, Colleen has taken the worst possible time to make the current situation all about her, too self-centered to see the pain her words were causing Tig and Opie. Had they been anywhere but the hospital, Tina was sure her old cat fighting days would have reemerged, with a vengeance and she would have put the bitch down quick.

Apparently, she and Jolene had more in common than similar looks because her daughter was eyeing Colleen coldly and the sudden twitch in her jaw was clearly an indicator that she was holding herself back from cutting loose on the woman. As much as Jolene loved her SAMCRO family, she could understand a mother's pain and rationalized that Colleen was lashing out because she was genuinely distraught. Whatever issues Colleen had, now was not the time to address them. But _no outsider_ would be allowed to talk shit about any member of _her family_.

"It might serve you well to put a civil tongue in your head when speaking to my family," Jolene addressed Colleen. "I've been known to lose my shit and I wouldn't want to be responsible for yanking yours out by the roots."

Tina was momentarily stunned and suddenly found her eyes moist with tears as Jolene looked directly at her and nodded her head when she said "my family". It was a small gesture and Tina realized that she was probably reading more into it than Jolene actually meant, but for Tina it symbolized what she hoped was a change in their relationship. In spite of the uncomfortable and painful situation regarding Fawn, Tina couldn't help but be grateful to Colleen for what her outburst had wrought.

The fact that she had spoken up in defense of Tina as well as Opie and Tig seemed to catch Jolene by surprise as well. "Now, do you want to see your daughter or not?" Jolene eyed the woman with a pair of cold dead eyes.

Colleen could see the anger rising like steam from the young woman and was momentarily startled into submission. Jackie had warned her about the old lady that had taken Gemma Teller-Morrow's place as the SAMCRO Queen and it seemed that she had not exaggerated about the woman's temper. She didn't come down to Charming to get her ass beat and as she eyed the young angry woman, she realized the chance of that happening was entirely possible.

Reluctantly, she swallowed back her ire. "Yes. I want to see Fawn." Colleen replied quietly, her voice having lost its strident and combative tone.

Grateful that she had finally gotten through to the angry woman without having to follow through on her threat, Jolene nodded. "Then come this way." She gestured, letting Colleen step in front of her.

"Shit! Tig had said he had a rattlesnake of an old lady, but I didn't think there was a woman alive that dared talk to him like that." Tiki muttered to Juice as they watched Jolene lead Fawn's mother down the hall to ICU, while Tina headed with his brothers towards the elevator.

"Well, seeing is believing." Juice replied. "With a double dose of crazy like that from Tigger and her mom, it's a miracle Fawn isn't mental." He sighed as he rubbed a hand over his Mohawk. "I wonder just how much more shit's coming our way before this is all over."

The younger patched shrugged and, much like his father, made a rather profound statement of wisdom. "The problem with shit is that it never stops coming out of your ass." Tiki replied laconically.

* * *

Aside from the days he had married his high school sweetheart Donna and she had given birth to a healthy set of bawling babies, the day his old lady woke up was probably the happiest day of Opie's life.

It had been nearly 72 hours since the attack and trying to remain optimistic for the benefit of his children was wearing him down. Neither Ellie or Harry had returned to school since Fawn had been in the hospital, both insisting on sitting vigil for the woman that had become so much a part of their lives. Opie knew that arriving at the salon just as Fawn was being loaded onto the ambulance had opened old wounds for Ellie, but it was Harry who, in addition to worrying about his father's old lady, was dealing with feelings of guilt. It had been his idea to switch shifts at the salon with Shepherd in order to hang around the Clubhouse to press up on Darcy. Had he been there that night, there was no way Harry would have let Fawn talk him into leaving her alone in the salon.

No amount of reassurances from his father could convince Harry that his guilt was misplaced. The one thing Harry knew for sure, however, was that he wanted to be the first one to get his hands on that chicken shit Shepherd.

Although maybe going to school would have taken their minds off the situation by keeping them occupied during the day, both Opie and Tig were glad to have the company. For Opie, it was somewhat strange and a little amusing to see his kids interact with Tig. Before Fawn had come into their lives, Ellie and Harry's relationship with the SAA had been virtually non-existent. Not only could "ol' crazy eyes" be a little intimidating to small children, but Tig Trager didn't seem like a patch who paid a lot of attention to kids. Unless, of course, they hung around the garage, pestering him with questions about fixing cages as was Maddy Teller's habit. Maddy was probably the only kid—aside from her mother before her—that Tig had ever tolerated following him around.

Nevertheless, Tig's relationship with Opie's kids changed radically after Donna's death. Children seemed to have the ability to see things a lot clearer than their older parents, and neither Ellie or Harry had been willing to blame their father or Tig for what happened to their mother. In fact, in Ellie's mind, Tig and Happy had elevated themselves into hero status when their quick actions had pulled Ellie and a small group of her friends out of the line of fire on that horrible day. Still, they had done their part to stay out of his way.

Now during this crisis, the twins were showing the maturity of children transitioning into young adults as they took to looking after the SAA. Never allowing him to sit all alone when Tina was visiting with Fawn, Ellie would look after him, getting him coffee and food from the cafeteria. Harry did his best to engage Tig in conversation, asking about his early days as a new member of the Club and even learning some interesting facts about his stint in the Marines. All were ways of trying to keep Tig and everyone around them from thinking about the young woman in the ICU fighting to stay alive and who had brought them all together as a family.

It was only fitting then that when Opie's stubborn redheaded vixen decided to wake up, that they were all there for the good news.

Opie's eyes had literally exploded in his head with fear as he heard the sound of high heels quickly clicking as someone ran down the corridor before Tina bounded into the waiting room and ran towards him and Tig, only to hear good news.

"Fawn's awake!" She said excitedly.

As everyone jumped to their feet, Tig quickly enveloped Tina in his arms and gave her huge hug that swept her off her feet. With his children and his brothers crowding around him and patting him on the back, Opie finally felt the weight of all of his fears lift from his heart.

"What are we waiting for?" Opie swiped at the tears on his face he hadn't realized were there. "Let's go see my old lady." He announced.

* * *

The moment Fawn Marie Trager had cracked open her one good eye, the panic quickly started setting in. The last thing she could remember clearly was having her shirt ripped open by the asshole that had broken into her beloved shop again. Unsure where she was, all Fawn knew for sure was that she was lying on her back and her attacker might very well still be there, waiting to brutalize her further.

Feeling the overwhelming need to get back on her feet, Fawn tried moving, but her sides ached in protest. Lying still, she focused on the steady "blip" sound coming from somewhere behind her and then it hit her.

After 11 years, she once again found herself in the body shop.

The last time Fawn had been a patient in a hospital had been when she had overdosed. Hospitals, a place she associated with sickness and dying, especially after her mother had started working in one after she graduated nursing school, didn't even crack her list of favorite places in the world. A piranha-infested river in the Amazon ranked higher than hospitals. Her distaste for these institutions of healing had more to do with resentment, however, than they did with an actual fear of dying. Never really overly close to her mother, once Colleen started working as an ER nurse she and Fawn had become even more estranged. With two young daughters left to fend for themselves when they needed parental guidance the most, it wasn't any wonder why Fawn, and even Dawn to a certain extent, had gotten into trouble as teenagers.

So for Fawn, waking up and finding herself in what was most likely St. Thomas had her tense and somewhat fearful for her future sobriety.

"Shit!" Fawn croaked, her voice reedy and dry.

The familiar soft and soothing voice that had gently coaxed her out of her deep slumber by telling Fawn she needed to wake up because her family loved and missed her—suddenly stopped.

"Shit, T," Fawn started as she waded through the last of the murky sea of unconsciousness. "If you wanted me to wake up, all you had to do was send my Redwood in." Fawn had finally managed to say through cracked and blackened lips. "He's been known to wake me from a deep sleep for some nookie. Damn! I feel like shit."

With a screech, Tina Giamatti had leaped out of the hard-backed and uncomfortable chair in the room and pounced on the bed. "Oh my God!" She blubbered as tears streaked down her cheeks. "What the hell took you so long?"

Giving her a soft, but enthusiastic kiss on the forehead, Tina ran outside to share the good news with the rest of the family in the waiting room.

The next person to walk through her door was not her Redwood, however. Instead, it was a tall young woman wearing a lab coat and the standard issue pair of green scrubs that quickly entered the room with a nurse.

"Well, I am so glad you decided to rejoin the world of the living." The doctor smiled.

"Yeah, I think I prefer it to the land of the dead any ol' day." Fawn replied, her voice raspy. "I'm thirsty. Can I have some water please?"

"Absolutely," The doctor replied and using the controls for the bed, gently brought Fawn into a semi-upright position. Taking the large plastic container holding iced water with a straw from the nurse, she helped Fawn sip a mouthful of water before pulling it out of her mouth.

The water was soothing and having lubricated her parched throat, Fawn found it easier to speak. "Damn, I never thought water could taste so good, but it wasn't enough."

"It is for right now." The young woman replied as she handed to cup back to the nurse.

"So I gather you're my doc?"

"Dr. Lauren Shay."

Looking at the clean and scrubbed face of the doctor—a woman probably not that much older than herself—Fawn felt decidedly unwashed and unkempt.

 _God only knows what the fuck I look like_ , she thought.

 _Most definitely like shit,_ inner-Fawn snarked. _But at least you're alive._

Fawn winced as she tried moving her limbs, which seemed heavy and felt the aches and pains of a body well and truly beaten. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days." Dr. Shay replied.

"What?" Fawn replied blankly. "How?"

"You took a pretty nasty knock to the head and were in a coma. Do you remember what happened?" The doctor asked gently.

As Fawn attempted to push the cobwebs away from her mind, her memory slowly started to return. The doctor could see it as it played over her face, the anger and rage. And then the fear. Dr. Shay moved quickly to squash it.

"Well, one thing's for sure. You know how to kick some serious ass. Your attacker may have been a pretty mean son of a bitch, but you held your own against him." Dr. Shay said quietly. "Other than a pretty good beating, you're fine."

Fawn's face showed some relief. "I think I remember most of what happened, but my mind's still a little fuzzy. I do remember him ripping at my clothes." She tried to wet her lips but her tongue was so dry. "Did he—"

Dr. Shay shook her head firmly. "No, he didn't. You put up quite a fight and came in here wearing copious amounts of _his_ blood." The young doctor smiled at her. "His attack on you, however, was brutal and caused a significant amount of damage." She quickly ran down Fawn's list of injuries.

"Shit!" Fawn would have bellowed if she had the strength to do so as she finally noticed the cast on her right arm. "How am I supposed to earn a living with one good arm? I can't believe the bastard did this to me." She winced again as she felt the pain on both sides of her body from the broken ribs. Her one blue eye, the other still swollen shut, was blazing with anger.

"It was a pretty bad break, but fortunately, we could set it without having to operate. You'll have a cast on for about six to eight weeks." Dr. Shay advised. "I know that must be tough to hear. I've heard a lot about you from the nurses. I hear you do great work and a couple even told me point blank that I might benefit from visiting your salon." She smiled ruefully.

Fawn tried to chuckle, but even that hurt. Tilting her head to the side, Fawn did a quick assessment with her one good eye. The young doctor was attractive in spite of the lanky long brown hair she wore in a ponytail "Well, once I'm better, come down to the salon and I'll hook you up, no charge, Doc." Fawn offered. "That is, if my salon survived."

"According to one of your business partners, the salon is fine." Dr. Shay said gently. "From what I understand it was you who took all of the damage."

Hearing that the salon was okay had Fawn feeling a measure of relief, but she knew she wouldn't completely believe it until she saw her baby for herself.

However, it was far easier to think about the salon than it was to think about how her old man had held up during the past three days. Sure as shit Opie had beat himself up over what had happened, even though it was her own damn fault for being so stubborn.

"So now that I've returned to the land of the living," Fawn started. "When can I go home?"

"Well, now that you're awake, we need to run several tests, including an MRI and a CAT scan. You'll also be meeting with a neurologist who will want to run his own tests. Although you seem cognizant and aware of your surroundings, it's just a precaution in order to rule out brain damage. At this point, I really can't say until all of your tests results are back." Dr. Shay explained as Fawn tried to pout but stopped as the stitches pulled at her lip. "On the bright side, your entire family has been gathered in the waiting room for the past three days. I'm sure they're eager to see you, so after I do a quick preliminary examination, I'll send them in for a brief visit. Then we're going to see about getting you well."

As the doctor and the nurse quickly started taking her vital signs, Fawn laid back on her pillow with a sigh, praying that they took take their sweet time tending to her.

_Because all hell's gonna break loose when I have to tell my Redwood who it was that tore me up._

* * *

"Hey, baby," Fawn said softly as the man she loved more than life itself walked into her room.

Opie strode across the small open space to her bedside in two giant steps before he reached out to take her in his arms. She looked beat to shit, but his woman was sitting upright and grinning at him through cracked lips. Even with a multitude of bruises and lacerations covering her body and face, Fawn Trager was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

"Baby," Opie said hoarsely before he gently placed his lips on hers, not even caring to hide the tears that slipped down his cheeks as he tenderly stroked her back with his large hands.

Cupping her body close to his, Opie gently placed kisses all over her face and nearly moaned with joy as he felt her long slender fingers caress his cheek and beard as she kissed him back.

Until this very moment, Opie hadn't been sure that he would ever get to hold his Big Red or feel her caresses ever again. Being the spawn of Trager, part of him should have realized that his old lady was just too damn stubborn to die on him. But it had hurt too much to even contemplate life without her that any hopes Opie had he had kept buried deep within him. Waiting for days not knowing if she was ever going to wake up had nearly driven him insane. Opie sighed contentedly, finally releasing the breath he had been waiting to exhale for the past three days. As he nuzzled the crook of her neck all he could think about was that, at least for the time being, she would be too weak to start shit with him considering the ear-twisting she was in for putting him through this.

Boy, was he wrong.

Suddenly Opie felt a sharp tug on his beard. "Ow!" He yelped. "What the fuck, Big Red?"

"What the fuck, you say? What the fuck is _this_ , Redwood?" Opie winced as he felt something yanked off of his head and shoved into his face. Looking down at Fawn's good hand he saw the last of his favorite hats clenched into the small fist. "I thought I got rid of this shit."

"Are you serious?" Opie shot back. "You've been dead to the world for the last three days and all you can think of doing is yell at me about a damn hat?"

"Yeah, especially when you know I hate that shit." Fawn replied as she tossed the godforsaken hat to the foot of her bed, a Herculean effort considering her current condition.

"Oh shut up and kiss me," Her old man ordered with a devastatingly sexy grin before taking her in his arms again. Fawn slid her fingers into his thick hair, now free of its former constraints, as Opie pressed his lips to hers gently again.

In spite of the fact that the couple was completely engrossed in each other and oblivious to the world around them, the room was quickly overflowing with people. Cradled in the arms of her old man Fawn couldn't see them, but she could certainly hear them—her father, in spite of the slight emotion cracking his voice, was being his snarky self as he argued with Tina; Lexie was unabashedly crying, along with Ellie; and Tina was doing her best to keep Tig corralled in order to give the couple a brief moment to reunite before he jumped in.

Her friend, however, could hold her Dad back only for so long. "Okay, youse two. Break it the fuck up." The SAA replied brusquely. "You've had your turn. Now let the rest of us get in."

Opie heard his brother in the background, and reluctantly let Fawn pull herself out of his embrace. "I guess I have to give you up for a minute." Opie murmured before pressing a kiss on top of her head.

"Just a minute." Fawn whispered back with a slight smile.

As her old man finally stepped aside, Fawn once again found herself being gently smothered by a set of powerful arms. "Shit, Fawnzy. You sure took your fuckin' time waking up." Her father muttered close to her ear.

"Payback's a bitch, you geezer." She teased him. "Now you know how I felt with you laid up in the hospital all those months ago."

But the outlaw was serious as he looked down at his daughter. "No, baby girl. It was a hell of a lot worse than that." Tig said soberly.

No parent should ever have to face the possibility of losing their child and for the second time in his life, Tig had come close to losing Fawn. The knowledge of that had taken the outlaw biker to a very dark place emotionally and now that she was awake and in his arms, all he wanted was to find the assholes responsible for nearly taking his daughter away from him.

Being an alpha male always came quite naturally to Tig Trager. Full of bravado, as an outlaw biker he wore his male pride like a suit of armor, so it deeply moved Fawn to hear his voice raw with emotion and to see him fight to conceal the toll the pain and grief he had lived with for the past three days had taken on him. Fawn tried to hug him fiercely despite her cast and the pain caused by her broken ribs. The fact that it was a weak attempt did not go unnoticed by either her father or her old man. Their hearts hardened with the resolve to find the fuckers responsible and force feed them their balls.

Pulling away from his daughter, Tig stood back with Opie and watched her reunion first with Harry and then Lexie, Ellie and Tina. It quickly got emotional as all four women cried and talked over one another, which had Tig contemplating breaking up the hen gathering before he was up to his ass in a river of tears. Besides, there were more pressing matters that needed to be addressed at the moment.

"Okay, you broads," He said a little sharply and the words cut like a knife between the women. "I know that you have a lot you wanna talk about, but we have important shit to discuss with Fawnzy right now." He paused and looked over at Opie.

Catching his brother's eye, the VP knew that Tig was right. He walked over and placed a gentle hand on Lexie's arm. "Lex, can you do us a favor? Fawn's mother is staying over at the Ramada, and—"

"Mom's here?" Fawn was stunned. "Shit, who called her?"

"No one." Tina said quietly. "Apparently, you forgot to let her know that the grand opening was postponed. She showed up on Saturday to surprise you."

"Oh shit," Fawn moaned and she looked at her father. "And you're still alive?"

"Barely." Tig snorted. "Doll Face managed to cool her jets some, but Coll's still acting like a complete gash." The SAA replied as he thought about his old lady.

While everyone was trying to be considerate of his daughter's mother, Colleen Trager hadn't given a damn. Although the SAMCRO Queen had smoothed shit over with her and had gone beyond the call of duty by offering to put her up in the Teller home, Colleen had snubbed the younger woman's gesture of hospitality, insisting rather rudely that she would be better off staying in a motel. Drawing the short straw, Filthy Phil had the "privilege" of escorting Colleen to the motel. Colleen would show up at the hospital daily and spend an hour or two by Fawn's bedside before returning to her self-imposed exile, something which Tig had been grateful for.

"Damn," Fawn moaned. "I didn't bother to call her to let her know. She never responded to the invite, so I just assumed she was still pissed at me and not coming. How's she been acting?"

"Like a real peach, Fawnzy." Tig said derisively. "What the fuck, really? This is your mother we're talking about."

"Look, none of that is important right now," Opie cut in. There was no need for Fawn to know the absolute bitchy fit her mother had thrown or the antipathy she had generated among the Club in general. Besides, he had dealt with bad in-laws before. If Opie could deal with the bucket of sunshine that had been Donna's mother, he could deal with anybody. Even Colleen Trager.

"I'm sure she would want to know that you're awake." Opie continued and turned to Lexie. "Lex, do you think you could head over to the Ramada and bring her here? I'd send the Prospect," He nudged his head towards his son. "But she _really_ doesn't care much for the Club, but she still deserves to be here."

"Sure, Opie. I don't mind," Lexie said compassionately, although having met the woman a couple of days ago, she had to admit that Fawn's mother was a bit of a pill. She wasn't looking forward to having to engage the harridan in conversation again. Grabbing her handbag which she had haphazardly discarded onto one of the chairs, Lexie walked over to give Fawn a hug, promising to return with her mother in twenty minutes.

As the door closed behind her, Fawn slumped back onto her bed. "Shit, Mom's in town. I think I would have preferred staying in a fuckin' coma." She moaned as she rested her forearm over her forehead, the loose sleeve of her hospital gown falling back to reveal Opie's crow.

"Yeah, and I guess I should warn ya." Tig said as he nodded at his daughter's arm. "Coll' got a good look at your new ink there and let's just say she was a little tweaked."

"Well, too fuckin' bad for Mom then." She retorted. "She better get untweaked and quick because I _will_ find the energy to fight her on this if she wants to throw down."

"Maybe we should call Lexie back, cut Fawn a little break here." Tina suggested anxiously. "She doesn't need any more stress. She just woke up from a fuckin' coma."

"We don't tell Coll' and there'll be hell to pay," Tig counseled. "Don't worry, Doll. I know how to handle her. Right now we have more important shit that needs taking care of."

"Like what?" Tina asked blankly.

"Like finding out who put my old lady in the hospital." Opie replied quietly, his tone not betraying the rage he was struggling with, but which was clearly evident on his face.

 _Oh shit,_ Fawn thought as both her old man and her father turned to face her, their eyes literally boring holes in her head.

"So I'm gathering the douche bags got away?" She said in an effort to stall for a little time.

"Yeah, they did." Opie replied evenly. "Why the hell were you alone to begin with, Fawn?"

 _Damn it, I knew that was coming. I'm in for it now_!

 _As you should_ , inner-Fawn replied. _Redwood was right. You should have had more prospects on hand_.

Fawn tried to sit up straight in order to take her beating like a man, but winced a little as her ribs protested the effort. Seeing her pain, Tina quickly darted to her side to try and make Fawn a little more comfortable.

Both Opie and Tig knew when Fawn was stalling for time, but to say that out loud would surely earn them a reprimanding glare from Momma T. So they waited for Mother Hen to stop fussing over her little chick before pressing her for the truth.

Finally, Tina stepped away and Fawn eyed her man with resignation. "It was late, Ope, and I was hungry. Tina and Ellie were on their way back from Stockton, so I convinced the Prospect to go pick us up some dinner." She sighed. "At the most, it was a twenty minute run to the diner and back and I never thought that something like this would happen, especially since I locked up behind him and even set the alarm. Trust me, if I knew then what I know now, I never would have sent him."

Tina wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion. "What happened to him anyway? Shepherd, right? I don't think I've seen him since." She swung her head over to eye Tig inquiringly.

"If he's lucky, none of us will ever see that prick again." Harry responded. "Chicken shit's probably still running."

"And he better never stop," Opie added. "We're not the only ones looking for him."

The fact was the Prospect had returned to the salon after picking up the food, but hadn't stayed for long. The cowardly little shit had avoided being confronted by the two low-life's that had broken in by hiding in the supply closet. After they had taken off, Shepherd had dumped the bags of food on the second floor, along with his kutte and the keys to Fawn's car and hightailed it out of the salon.

Leaving a beaten and broken Fawn bleeding upstairs.

"He's not important right now," Tig said. "What is important, Fawnzy, is you telling us if you can confirm who it was that attacked you. The security tapes only caught them coming and going. One of them looked pretty jacked up too, but they were both wearing ski masks."

"I know, but—" Fawn started.

"You don't have to protect him, Fawn." Opie started bitterly. "He crossed the line big time. I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Fawn nodded. "You're right, baby. And I'm not protecting anyone. Right now, I want him dead too." She grew angry at the thought of what the man had nearly done to her.

"Good! I'm fuckin' glad to hear that." Tig said angrily. "With the exception of my brother here, when it comes to picking the shittiest boyfriends, you have all the luck in the world."

Fawn's eyebrows shot up into hairline which was covered by bandages. " _Boyfriend_? What the fuck are you talking about, you crazy shit?"

Opie stared into Fawn's confused eyes. "Babe, the past no longer matters and you need to let it go. After what he did to you and the salon, you don't owe him shit. Max-fucking-Ryder is a dead man."

"You think Max had something to do with this?" Tina sputtered in shock.

"Yes, I do." Turning to face his wide-eyed woman, Opie nearly snarled, his anger finally spilling out. "And nothing you can say will spare him his life."

"Really? There's absolutely nothing I can say that would stop you from killing an _innocent_ man?" Fawn drawled out casually as she eyed her old man.

"Innocent? What the fuck are you talking about?" Opie's eyes narrowed at the determined looked on his old ladies face.

"Max didn't do this to me. And he didn't wreck the shop either." Fawn replied calmly as she looked straight into Opie's dark green eyes. "It was Chip Jr."


	35. Alive and Kicking

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe** **.**

* * *

With a population of over 200,000 residents, Modesto was the largest city in Stanislaus County. Surrounded by sprawling farmland, it was also Northern California's largest agricultural producer, grossing billions of dollars a year in revenue. Much of that wealth remained with roughly one percent of the city's population and with crime rates among the highest of all cities in NorCal, the wealthy had built their own private gated-communities to keep themselves insulated from the outside world. It would probably surprise no one in the exclusive community known as Cobblestone—at least not those that really knew him—to learn that Charles "Chip" Preston Jr. was not only a member of Modesto's privileged class, but also the primary cause behind the recent rash of property and auto thefts to plague the exclusive enclave.

Standing in front of the double mirror in the oversized marble bathroom of the lavish pool house on one such estate, Chip was angrily inspecting the damage the redheaded bitch had inflicted on him several days ago. The sink was overflowing with soiled and bloody bandages as he rifled through the contents of the first aid kit lying on the counter.

The bruises on Chip's face were starting to turn from their initial black and blue palette to yellow and brown and even though the swelling of his eye and lip had subsided significantly, his nose had not. Since Sam insisted that he avoid going to a local emergency room for medical attention, Chip continued to hide away in the pool house tending to his own wounds. Staring at the white adhesive tape across the bridge of his nose, Chip feared that it was likely that it would end up sitting crooked on what had been a very handsome face.

But it was his ear that had suffered the most damage and even now the angry young man could barely bring himself to look it. He wouldn't have to either if Sam was any type of friend, but the arrogant prick was no help at all. As Chip gingerly cleaned the mangled ear with cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide, to his way of thinking it had been a miracle that he hadn't bled out. As it was, every time he changed his bandages, his ear started oozing blood and the pain was becoming close to unbearable.

"That fuckin' bitch!" Chip growled under his breath as he looked into the mirror at his now-ruined face. At least he hadn't let the skank get off easy.

It had been an unexpected, but lucky break running into the woman responsible for the chaos his life had become since their first encounter in the strip mall parking lot in Stockton. All he had wanted was some pussy from the cunt he had been dating on and off for weeks, but the little bitch refused to give it up without a fight. Ellie was her name. Ellie Winston. She had been really hot too with the right amount naïve innocence that got him hard just thinking about it. Ellie had managed to keep him at arm's length, but on that day last spring, Chip had decided that he had had enough of waiting until she was _ready_.

After convincing Ellie to ditch school, they had driven to Stockton where it was a lot easier for Chip to buy liquor without getting carded. The plan had been to take Ellie to his father's condo in San Francisco where he would nail her in the hot tub. But first he needed to get her to mellow out a bit and stop being such an uptight little virgin. While still in the parking lot, Chip had convinced Ellie to smoke a blunt with him, but she had resisted taking more than just a couple of sips from the bottle of Vodka he had spiked with powdered X.

Claiming she wasn't feeling well, Ellie had insisted that Chip take her back home. When he refused, she had jumped out of his car, but Chip could see that the weed and Vodka had started to take effect and he wasn't going to let the opportunity to be the one to break Ellie in get away. Even if he had to fuck her in the back seat, Chip was determined to get her back into his car. The commotion Ellie had caused had drawn the attention of the Amazonian bitch with something to prove who then proceeded to beat the shit out of his Beamer with a tire iron. The interfering redhead had forced him to leave the little bitch Ellie behind in order to save his car from further damage.

Shit only got more complicated for Chip when he tried to get his car repaired behind his father's back. One of Chip Sr.'s employees at the dealership Chip used to buy coke from had recommended a garage in the hick town of Charming where, instead of getting his car fixed, he ended up getting beat to shit. In the past, Chip had always managed to buy his way out of trouble with angry parents whose daughters had been on the receiving end of his overly aggressive "charm", but not this time. First, some white trash mechanic close to his age had used him as a punching bag as a warm up for the main event as the cunt's father nearly beat him to death. Chip winced at the memory of the brutal beating. What had nearly killed him, however, had been the complete and utter destruction of his brand new car by the gang of biker thugs before they dumped his ass and his car at his father's feet. Thinking they operated above the law, Ellie's giant of a father had no qualms either about threatening to kill him in front of a parking lot filled with onlookers if he ever saw Chip again.

The beating, Chip was quickly learning, he could have lived with and he could have explained the busted taillights away with some bullshit story. What Chip had been unable to overcome had been having what happened with Ellie exposed to his father. Ole Chip Sr. was fed up with having to intercede on behalf of his wayward son for the same shit over and over. His father had not only pulled his college tuition, but had cut Chip off financially.

Losing his free ride through college Chip could hardly bring himself to give a shit about. But to someone who had the intention of never having to work for a living, losing access to his father's hard-earned money had Chip going all kinds of crazy. With his old man refusing to budge on the issue until he cleaned up his act, Chip had no choice but to find other means of supporting the lifestyle to which he had grown accustomed.

It had taken Chip damn near close to a month to recover from the beating he had received from Ellie's father, but once he had, it was business as usual.

Out partying one night with Sam Boland, a friend of a friend and a group of similarly spoiled rich kids, Chip ended up piss drunk and driving one of the luxury cars he had boosted from his father's dealership with the intention of returning it before Chip Sr. was none the wiser. Unfortunately, he ended up getting pulled over and with a blood alcohol level of 0.08%, the California Highway Patrolman was going to haul his ass in when Sam identified himself to the officer. In spite of his own drunken state, Sam had suavely managed to feel the cop out who, upon learning that Sam's father was a rather influential businessman, seemed open to letting shit slide for the right price.

With the motorcycle cop escorting them to the entrance of their gated community, Chip and Sam had been able to walk away from a DUI and a possible charge of grand theft auto as the officer walked away with a pocket full of cash and Chip's Rolex watch.

Chip was eternally grateful to his now-best friend and, when a couple of days later Sam approached him with a scheme by which he could pay him back while earning himself some fast money _and_ getting his old man off of his back, Chip was eager to listen.

If he was honest with himself, Chip would admit that he was a little in awe of Sam Boland. The young man was definitely something of a bad ass with a head for strategic planning. Like his father, Sam was an entrepreneur, just one that operated on the other side of the law. Cashing in on his intimate knowledge of his friends' family estates, Sam had used his rather dubious underground connections to terrorize the gated communities of Modesto for profit. Having formed a small gang of sorts, Sam planned and oversaw the group as they carried out several B&E's, breaking into homes he knew for a fact were unoccupied and relieving them of anything of value as long as it was portable.

Bringing Chip into his enterprise had allowed Sam to expand his little cottage industry to include stealing cars from these properties as well. Using his knowledge of his father's business, Chip had managed to make several connections that put him in touch with several chop shops throughout NorCal. He had managed to impress Sam so much that he agreed to split the profits evenly, with a one or two percent cut going to the tweakers that formed their crew. Growing more confident with each job they planned and successfully executed, Sam was even considering branching out, giving Modesto a chance to recoup while they moved on to similar affluent areas in San Leandro and Sacramento, with the duo using their hard-partying, high-rolling social life to find new marks to hit.

Vandalizing the salon in Charming, however, had been unrelated to the business they usually dealt with. It was more of a favor that Sam was doing for his father Leonard Boland and should have been an easy job. Trashing the newly-renovated business had been a lot of fun, and Chip had let off plenty of steam with all the damage he had caused, but it had also been the closest they had ever come to getting caught, just barely getting away when that cop came out of nowhere and gave chase. That was why Chip had been apprehensive about going back to finish the job.

All the anxiety of getting caught had quickly left Chip, however, when he realized that the bird from the parking lot was the same bitch that taken a few swings at him with some metal rod on the second floor of the salon. He knew the redheaded whore had acted tough, but anyone could be a bad ass with a tire iron in their hand. This bitch had surprised him, though, because he had not expected her to fight back so hard or do so much damage. With the local hospitals probably on the look out for someone sporting injuries like his, Chip had been reduced to hiding out in Sam's pool house until shit died down. But beating the shit out of someone had never felt so great and he was still a little peeved that Sam had stopped him before he got to have some real fun with the cunt. After all, even with the bruises he had put on her face, she was a fuckin' hot piece of ass.

"Fuckin' bitch turned me into some gruesome gargoyle." Chip muttered to himself as he finished re-bandaging his ear. "She fucked me up!"

"She certainly did." A voice replied sardonically from the doorway of the bathroom. "And it served your ass right."

Chip turned around to face Sam and leaned against the bathroom sink. "What the fuck, man? _She_ deserved that shit and more. That bitch fucked up my life."

"What you were about to do to her, man," Sam countered, the memory of Chip pawing at the woman's clothes sickening him. "That was never part of the plan."

"Maybe it wasn't a part of _your_ plan," Chip argued. "But I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to pay the bitch back for cock-blocking me, fucking up my car, _and_ getting me disowned."

"You're such an asshole," Sam replied. "Yeah, you may have gotten a couple of good hits in and you definitely scared the shit out of her when she thought you were gonna rape her, but your DNA and half of your ear are probably lying in an evidence bag somewhere in some police station. Looks like she may get the last laugh after all and all because you decided to go off script."

The tall and brawny young man eyed the angry POS standing in front of him. In spite of the fact that Chip had always been a part of his social circle of friends, Sam had never really liked him. Although he had graduated high school the same year Chip started, Sam had heard shit about the kid that made his skin crawl. Although popular for his good looks and his father's money, rumors about Chip had circulated for years about him being involved in some date rape scandal more than once. Sam had heard that one girl had gone so far as to press charges, claiming that when she had resisted his advances, Chip had beat her into submission and forced himself on her.

As far as anyone in Cobblestone knew, however, the charges were later dropped when the girl recanted and said the incident had been a misunderstanding. Being the pompous, big mouth asshole Sam had always known him to be, Chip had bragged how the girl's family knew what a slut their daughter actually was and had dropped the case out of embarrassment. Sam had heard that the family had been paid off handsomely to make it all go away, which they did by moving to the east coast less than six months later. Up until a few days ago, stories like that about Chip Preston Jr. had been just that: stories and unfounded rumors. After witnessing with his own eyes what he was sure was a rape about to happen, Sam had started questioning the wisdom of partnering with the obviously disturbed young man bleeding all over his bathroom. Stealing from the rich who barely noticed their shit was missing and who usually blamed their grossly underpaid hired help first was one thing.

Brutally beating and nearly raping a woman whose business they had only been tasked to ransack was nasty business and not anything Sam Boland wanted his name attached to.

So still completely disgusted with Chip, Sam didn't pull any punches. "Now you need to pack your shit and get out of here."

Chip stared disbelievingly at his friend. "What the hell, dude? Are you serious?" He burst out.

"Yeah, I am. We had a good thing going until you pulled that stunt in Charming. That shit's all over the news and my father is royally pissed. You're a liability we can no longer afford and I've been ordered to get rid of your ass." Sam replied brusquely.

"You can't do this to me!" Chip declared angrily. "I have nowhere to go where I can lay low. Where in the fuck am I supposed to go?!"

"Maybe your Dad will take you back." Sam offered.

"Looking like this?! He'll know some shit went down and will probably call the cops himself."

"Then you better find someplace to lie low, but you can't stay here. I want you out of here in an hour." Sam said curtly.

"You can't do this to me, man." Chip shook his head in disbelief. "We go way the fuck back."

"No, not _that_ far back."

"This is bullshit!" Chip blustered. "Kicking me out will be the worst mistake you've ever made. You know I know shit."

The smile on Sam's face belied the anger in his amber-colored eyes. "Really? You're gonna threaten the guy who with one phone call to the Sheriffs can fuck your life? The guy who didn't leave a scrap of DNA evidence behind and who has at least twenty people, including a couple of bouncers, ready to swear that I was out clubbing the night _you_ trashed the salon? And as for our _former_ partnership, you're better off shooting yourself in the head if you think you can get away with turning on a bunch of tweakers. All they care about is making enough money for their next dime bag, so you might as well kill yourself or they will and they won't be nearly as nice as I would." Sam smiled thinly before turning and heading back to the pool house's door. "I'll be back here in an hour. If I find you still here, we're gonna have a problem."

Chip stood stock still as he heard the front door open and close.

 _What the fuck am I going to do_?

Even though his options were severely limited, Chip didn't dare cross Sam or his father and had no choice but to figure something out and fast. Latching onto what Sam had said about tweakers doing whatever they needed to do for some cash, Chip realized that there was maybe one place he could go for shelter. Moving to the bedroom, Chip quickly packed his shit and headed towards his truck.

* * *

" _It was Chip Jr."_

A dead silence fell over the occupants of the room. Fawn leaned back into her pillows, already exhausted by the impact the bomb she had just dropped would cause.

Ellie, who had been quiet during Fawn's exchange with Opie and Tig, felt the color drain from her face. Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, she fought the urge to spew its contents all over the floor of her friend's hospital room. The friend Ellie now felt responsible for putting there in the first place.

"Oh my God, Fawn," Ellie stepped forward to grasp the battered hand of her father's old lady. "Are you sure it was him?"

Fawn nodded soberly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I've never been more sure of anything in my life." She watched as a multitude of emotions fluttered across Ellie's face and realizing where the younger girl's mind was racing towards, quickly moved to head her off. "Elle, I want you to stop right there. What happened to me has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're not responsible for any of this."

"How can you say that?" Ellie shook her head as a stream of effortless tears washed over her flushed cheeks. "Chip came after you because of what happened in Stockton. It _is_ my fault."

Meanwhile, Opie felt as if he had been hit with a one ton anvil. He couldn't help but share his daughter's sense of guilt. Months ago, when that worthless piece of shit had come onto the SAMCRO VP's radar after what he had tried to do to Ellie, Opie had wasted no time in beating him half to death. Revenge was the only reason Opie could fathom as to why this asshole would rear his ugly head months after being so brutally dealt with. Chip Preston's reasons for what he had done to his old lady didn't matter, however. All that mattered to Opie was that he was a man of his word and he had promised to kill the son of a bitch if he ever set foot in Charming again.

But first he had to be sure his Big Red had it right.

Reaching out Opie gently took the hand of Fawn's injured arm in his. "Baby, are you sure about this? A vehicle fitting the description of Max's truck was seen speeding away from the salon after the first hit."

"Yeah, Fawnzy," Tig chimed in. "And this time around, the douche bags were caught by the security cameras and one of 'em was built just like him too. Are you sure it wasn't that fucker?"

Fawn felt her heart tighten in her chest as she eyed the two most important men in her life, quickly coming to the realization that they had conspired to keep shit from her. "A truck that _looked_ like Max's was seen leaving the scene a few weeks ago?" Fawn asked incredulously. "If that was the case, why hasn't Roosevelt arrested him?"

"Roosevelt doesn't know." Her father replied simply. "The cop that gave chase was a do-gooder rookie. He was so intent on catching him that he didn't pay attention to the license plate until it was too late and Max had gotten away. Roosevelt let slip the description of the cage and we just decided not to fill him in on what we knew."

"Or me for that matter." Fawn retorted. "Why didn't you tell me you had this information? Why would you keep that shit from me?"

"You didn't need to know, Fawn." Opie responded irritably. "The Club was taking care of it."

"Oh, silly ol' me! I should have known that _the Club_ was taking care of it." Fawn said sarcastically. "With all due respect to _the Club_ , they got it fuckin' wrong this time, didn't they? But how would _the Club_ know that since _the Club_ never bothered to clue me in. Newsflash, Ope. I'm not fuckin' _the Club_. I am, however, fuckin' you! Did it ever occur to you that as your old lady and co-owner of the salon that maybe I had a right to know just what _the Club_ was taking care of?"

"Fawnzy, you need to pull back on that shit just a little 'cause you're taking this all the wrong way." Tig said heatedly. "Opie thought and I agreed that you knowing Max was involved would just cause you more pain on top of all that douche bag had already inflicted on ya. Your old man was just looking out for you."

"Dad, that may be true, but not telling me what the Club was up to kept me from letting you know that you were barking up the wrong fuckin' tree." Fawn tried to hold back on her anger like her father suggested, but was having a hard time. She was tired, and hungry and was still in a considerable amount of pain. Not to mention that she just woke up from a fuckin' coma!

Being back in the hospital was taking Fawn back to a pretty bad place, mentally speaking. Dr. Shay had offered to prescribe something that would take the edge off her pain, but Fawn had adamantly refused. That had been hours ago and the fact that practically every bone and muscle in her body was throbbing in pain was eating away at her resolve to stay off painkillers. Being in a situation where it would be so easy to score something that would take her pain away had Fawn freaking out over her continued sobriety. Having explained her situation to the doctor, the young woman had understood, but tried convincing Fawn to consider taking an over-the-counter pain medication, but even the thought of swallowing a couple of Extra Strength Tylenol scared the shit out of Fawn.

Taking a deep breath, Fawn attempted to make herself heard without further losing her shit. "Look, you got it wrong. Neither of you know Max the way I do. He's a charming dick and a cheater and had commitment issues up the ying-yang, but he would never deliberately hurt me. Besides, I'm sure he has his bimbos on parade by now and I'm probably the last thing on his mind as he's touring the world." Fawn eyed her old man cautiously. She didn't feel it was necessary to mention the brutal kiss Max had forced on her. It had less to do with him trying to inflict pain and more to do with him marking his territory. Max had been belligerent and had acted out of anger, not malice.

Apparently, she wasn't the only one who felt they knew Max. Tina stepped towards Opie and placed a hand on his arm. "I hate to say it, but I have to agree with Fawn. I've known Max for way too long. He wasn't the right man for her, but he did care for Fawn in his own self-centered way. He would never hurt her like this. If anything, Fawn was the one that would get physical. As a matter of fact, she once gave Max a black eye for che—"

"Okay, T!" Fawn quickly interrupted. "You made your point. Max is not a violent man."

"He threatened you, Fawnzy. Said that you would regret choosing Ope over him." Tig said belligerently.

Fawn sighed. "That wasn't a threat, Dad. He just thought me getting involved with Opie was a mistake. That someday I would regret giving my life up in Seattle to settle down with an ex-con. His words, not mine, baby." She looked at her old man and shook her head. "Besides, if you thought he was threatening, I gotta wonder why you let him leave the Clubhouse alive." She teased with an arched eyebrow.

Opie ran a huge hand over his hair. "I wasn't in a particularly good frame of mind at the time, Big Red. Had I been thinking straight, I wouldn't have hesitated killing him, even if it did end up pissing you off."

Opie Winston was by no means squeamish. He had done a lot of shit during his years with the Club, much of it earning him his Men of Mayhem patch ten times over. But killing an innocent man was not something he had ever done and part of him was now grateful that the Club had not found Max Ryder. He was, however, looking forward to getting his hands on his _daughter's_ former-boyfriend.

Looking at Ellie now, Fawn could still see the weight of her guilt weighing down on the young woman. Deciding that she and her old man would be having a serious conversation when they did not have an audience, Fawn pushed her own hurt feelings that Opie was keeping secrets from her and held her good arm out to Ellie, who had retreated into the corner of the room.

"Come here, Ellie." She beckoned softly. With a deep sigh barely heard through her sniffles, the young girl went into her arms. "Now, I'm only going to say this once. That asshole showing up in Charming had absolutely nothing to do with you. Do you understand me?"

Ellie took a breath and let out a little sob. "But—"

"Listen to Fawn, baby girl." Opie spoke up, his heart aching for his daughter. "There's only one person to blame and we're gonna make sure he—"

Unfortunately, for the moment at least, Chip's fate was left up in the air as the door to Fawn's room opened to reveal a grim-faced Sheriff Eli Roosevelt.

* * *

Sheriff Roosevelt's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him as the victim of a brutal beating tried to comfort the young woman sobbing in her arms.

Taking note that the room was filled to capacity, Roosevelt stepped inside as he acknowledged Opie Winston and Tig Trager with a nod of his head. It was too bad, really. Eli had hoped to interview Fawn Trager without interference from her family, which was why he had kept two deputies at the hospital round the clock to alert him as soon as the SAMCRO SAA's kid regained consciousness. He had just sat his ass down in Floyd's chair for his weekly shave when he got the call and beat a hasty path to St. Thomas.

It shouldn't have surprised him to find Fawn surrounded by her people considering that Opie Winston, her old man, hadn't left her side for three days and it showed. The giant of a man looked exhausted, but Eli could tell by the set of his broad shoulders and the fire in his eyes that he was there to protect his woman and had no intention of leaving her side. The last time the Sheriff had been in a position to question a Trager had also been in the hospital. Tig Trager had cheated death as a result of a still-unsolved shooting several months ago. That investigation, Eli was sure, had been controlled and thwarted by SAMCRO every step of the way. He was determined that this time around he would get the information he needed to make a proper arrest.

However, before he could start his inquiry, Roosevelt suddenly heard the door swing open behind him, the edge of which clipped him on the ass, startling him.

"Hey, watch it!" He barked.

"Sorry about that," Jax Teller replied as he squeezed behind the Sheriff. The room was starting to resemble a crowded elevator. Jax nodded at his brothers. "I got here as soon as I heard." Looking over to Fawn still cradling a crying Ellie, Jax narrowed his eyes, wondering what the fuck he had missed. Although, in his opinion, Fawn looked a hell of a lot better awake than in a fuckin' coma, it was obvious that something had upset Ellie and the SAMCRO President cursed himself for not getting to the hospital sooner.

Ignoring Teller, Roosevelt approached the foot of Fawn's bed. "Ms Trager," He started quietly. "I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear that you decided to rejoin us all here in Charming." Eli flashed warm and sympathetic eyes at her as he eyed the young woman cradled in her good arm. "Is your stepdaughter all right?"

Fawn had been about to light into the Sheriff. After all, she had just come to and the last thing she needed or wanted were the cops haranguing her about what had happened. Fawn was cranky and in pain and all she wanted to do was comfort Ellie and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Now with Roosevelt and Jax Teller here and her mother probably only minutes away, suddenly slipping back into a coma was starting sound like a really good idea.

With all the mounting pressure, Fawn—as weak as she was—wanted to let off some steam and Roosevelt was looking like a prime target. That is until the lawman had uttered a few simple words recognizing that, despite the lack of a ring on her finger, the young woman in her arms was as good as hers and as such, Fawn found herself tempering her response.

"The strain of the last few days has finally caught up with her, but she'll be fine." Fawn replied. "Tina, please, could you take her out for some fresh air?"

Not really wanting to leave Fawn's side as she dealt with the Sheriff, but seeing Opie's nod of agreement, Tina made her way to Ellie and gently pulled her away. "Come on, sweetheart. You can see Fawn later. We'll take a nice walk and stop for some tea."

The room was silent for only a brief moment after the two women departed before Opie spoke up first to take command of the situation. "I'm sure you realize that the last thing my old lady needs right now is an interrogation." His voice was quiet but firm as he looked at the sheriff.

"Fawn's pretty scrappy, but I have to agree with Ope." Jax murmured under his breath. "I don't think her doctor would find all this activity advisable right now."

"No she wouldn't." Tig agreed in a much colder and unwelcoming voice. "Fawnzy needs to rest."

"I'm sure that she does," Eli agreed. "But I'm also sure that Ms. Trager realizes that there is a level of urgency here. After all, we are trying to apprehend whoever did this to her and the longer we wait, the colder the trail gets. I'm sure you remember that we were never able to catch your attackers, Trager. I don't want the same thing happening in this case as well."

The four men continued to spar verbally, virtually ignoring the miserable looking occupant in the bed. As they got louder and louder, Fawn realized that she needed to intervene soon or shit was going to get ugly with her outlaws possibly getting hauled off to jail for obstruction of justice.

"Alright already!" Fawn interrupted. "Just stop it, the lot of you. The Sheriff is only doing his job, so the quicker we get this over with, the quicker I can get that rest. I can tell you everything I know, which isn't much."

"Baby—" Opie started, but Fawn smiled up at him.

"I got this, Redwood." She said before turning her head to face Roosevelt. "Why don't I just start at the beginning?"

"That would be a great place to start." Eli agreed and for the next five minutes, with Opie standing by her side, Fawn explained as best she could her movements from the time she had locked herself in the salon until her altercation with one of the intruders before she was knocked out cold.

Opie's jaw was clenched so tight as he listened to Fawn recall blow-by-blow what had happened that night that it was in danger of cracking. He could literally see it unfolding before his very eyes as his old lady defiantly (and stupidly) took on her attacker without even thinking that she might not succeed. Opie looked over at Fawn's father, who was standing at the foot of the bed next to Roosevelt, with Jax on the other side of the Sheriff. For a man with the reputation of shooting first and asking questions later, the SAA was doing a pretty admirable job of holding his shit together.

As Fawn continued to speak softly, the door to her room opened once again, just wide enough for Lexie to slip inside the room alone. Opie wrinkled his brow in confusion as he cocked his head at Lexie. She silently shook her head when he silently mouthed "Colleen?" at her.

Tuning his attention back to Fawn, having been too distracted by Lexie to pay close attention to her continued recounting of the attack, at first Opie thought he had heard wrong. But as he focused his wide and shocked eyes on the hardened expression on her face, the SACMRO VP was hard pressed not to cut loose with a belly laugh.

"Baby, tell me you didn't!" He said with something of horrified admiration in his voice.

"Oh yes she did." Roosevelt confirmed with something of a wry smile. He had been busy taking down notes as Fawn spoke. "Whoever attacked Ms. Trager is tooling around missing his entire right lobe and a good portion of cartilage."

"Fuckin' A, Fawnzy!" Tig was sporting a smile that displayed all of his 32 teeth. Reaching over he gave her foot a gentle squeeze of approval, his eyes sparkling with humor for the first time during her recounting.

"I learned from the best." Fawn smiled weakly before father and daughter added in unison, "When all else fails, biting is totally fuckin' permissible."

"No doubt." Roosevelt barely managed to say without laughing out loud. "I think you should probably come with a warning label. I'm sure your attacker sorely regrets taking you on. Where were you exactly when you took that chunk out of his ear?"

"We were grappling on the floor by the window." Fawn replied. "He—he was gonna—I had no choice. I was desperate to get away."

"Nobody's gonna fault you for defending yourself, baby." Opie said grimly.

"No, they're not." Roosevelt agreed. "Ms. Trager—"

"Please, it's Fawn, Sheriff."

"Fawn, you did what you needed to do and because of it we have a ton of physical evidence, DNA that can tie the suspect to the crime once we get him in custody. We've alerted all of the hospitals and clinics in the Sanwa area to be on the lookout for anyone sporting this kind of injury and what you've shared helps in establishing an MO, but it's still not enough. It would be great if you could provide us with a physical description, with any and all distinguishing marks that you can remember."

Fawn shook her head regretfully. "I wish I could, but what I've given you is all I can remember." Fawn lied. "My attacker wore a ski mask the entire time. I don't even know how I was able to rip half his ear off. He may have had light colored eyes and could have been white, but I'm not too sure as I never saw his face. Weren't you able to get anything from the security footage?" She asked mournfully.

Roosevelt nodded. "Yes, but its very limited. Your cameras only cover the front and back doors. We have two perps on tape breaking in about 9:55, both wearing ski masks and dressed in all black. All we were able to piece together is a very general physical description. Both are believed to be white males—one about 6'3, bulky, and weighing about 190-225. The other, 6 feet, slim and about 170-180." Roosevelt sighed. "So you didn't see their faces at all?" He asked and Fawn shook her head. "We still have one other person we'd like to question, _if_ we can find track him down."

"Who's that?" Harry spoke up.

"Paul Shepherd. I was told he's a prospect of the Club. We have him and Fawn on tape at about 9:40 when he left through the front door. Can you tell me why he was there and where he was going?" Roosevelt asked.

Fawn motioned to the water bottle sitting on the table and Opie let her have a sip. "He was one of the Prospects helping out at the salon with clean-up and providing security. I sent him to Nicky's for some food. I was waiting for Tina and Ellie for another late meeting."

"I see. Well, you could have done with better protection." Roosevelt said coldly. "Seems Shepherd came back to the salon with the perps still there. I don't know how they missed him, but we found a couple of bags of take-out in the office upstairs. The time stamp on the video indicates the suspects fled the scene at 10:03, one of them limping and looking worse for wear. A minute later, your guy hightailed it out of there—"

"He was a prospect. He wasn't one of us yet and never will be." Jax interrupted coldly.

"I think Shepherd might agree. Along with the food, he left behind his kutte, an unregistered weapon and what we later discovered were your car keys." The Sheriff finished.

Hearing that help had been within arm's reach and yet she had been left alone and bleeding didn't seem to faze the young woman, Roosevelt noted. She seemed resigned to accept it. Her three protectors, however, did not. Roosevelt knew how gangs worked and realized that it must be eating them alive that the Prospect had abandoned his post. Loyalty was an absolute must and members had to be willing to die for one another. Roosevelt realized that the shithead was as good as dead if the Club ever caught up with him.

"We tried tracking him down, but the room he was renting on the other side of town is empty. It's a shame, really, but I have a feeling we won't be hearing from him again." Eli said.

 _We better not_ , Opie thought angrily.

With Opie on the list of contacts for the security firm, he had received a copy of the same tapes the Sheriffs Department had. SAMCRO had viewed those tapes over and over and it never failed to piss them off as they watched the Prospect abandon his post. None had been angrier than Harry. On several occasions, Fawn had tried to wheedle her way around the young Prospect, but Harry had flat out refused to give into her whining. Had Harry had been on the scene, Opie knew the events of that night would have gone down differently. One or both of the intruders would have been dead by now after the Club had managed to extract the reason behind the attacks from them.

It was of little consolation now, but Opie realized that he should have listened to his gut and ignored Fawn's whining too. His Big Red had a way of wrapping him around her little finger and because he had let her, he'd assigned just one Prospect to monitor security at the salon on a nightly basis. If that coward Shepherd had an ounce of sense in that head of his, he'd steer clear of any state with a charter or a friendly MC.

Roosevelt returned to his questioning. "So there's nothing else you can remember about them?"

Fawn closed her eyes as if in contemplation and then opened them again, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. There's really nothing. I just wish I knew why they targeted the salon twice. Maybe then all of this would make sense."

"So do I," Roosevelt countered. "Because this time, your salon wasn't the only target. Whoever it was must not be working alone because they hit my wife's shop at about the same time that night." He said quietly as Fawn's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh Jesus! Really? I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed. "How bad?"

"They busted out the windows and the refrigeration units used to house to the flowers need to be replaced." Roosevelt replied. "Could have been worse, though. The evidence left behind looks like the plan was to torch the place. Unfortunately, Rita thought security cameras in the shop were unnecessary, so we have nothing to go on."

"That's horrible." Lexie interjected, finally drawing attention to herself.

Fawn craned her neck in order to see her partner standing behind the wall created by the three men at the foot of her bed. "Lex, I didn't realize you had come in. Where's my mother?"

Lexie stepped around the men so that she was in full view of Fawn. "I went to the hotel, but the desk clerk said that she left a couple of hours ago. I left her a message and headed back here as fast as I could." The young woman shook her head. "I can't believe all that's been going on. Nothing like this has ever happened in Charming."

"It is a little unbelievable, isn't it?" Roosevelt tucked his notebook into the pocket of his uniform shirt. "Three attacks in just under a week and all I can say with certainty is that they all seem to be connected."

Opie couldn't see any fault with the man's logic. Now that Max Ryder was no longer a suspect and Fawn had identified Chip Jr. as her attacker, with the simultaneous attack on Rita's shop, it was obvious that there was a definite connection. At the moment, however, it was difficult to gauge if the Club was that connection. It was something SAMCRO would be looking into as soon as Roosevelt saw fit to get the hell out of Fawn's room.

Unfortunately, Lexie Dawson wasn't done thinking out loud.

The spunky hairstylist had a pretty good head on her shoulders and she had spent a lot of time analyzing much of what has happened since she and Fawn had taken on the arduous task of remaking Gina's Cut-N-Curl. Now with the attack on Rita's flower shop, things were starting to click for her, so without discussing it with Fawn first, the young woman opened her mouth and dumped it all in the Sheriff's ear.

"Lieutenant, I'm starting to wonder if it has less to do with mere vandalism and more to do with the businesses themselves." Lexie started.

 _Oh shit,_ Fawn's eyes widened as she gave Lexie a slight shake of her head that the young woman didn't seem to comprehend meant _shut the fuck up_.

Opie tried to interrupt in a less subtle manner, but Roosevelt raised a hand and encouraged Lexie to continue. "In what way?"

"Well," Lexie replied slowly. "Ever since Fawn and I took the business over from my mother, we've had all sorts of problems, a shitpot full as a matter of fact, and one right after the other too. I think we were so engrossed in getting the renovations done that we pretty much brushed some of the issues off as par for the course. But something happened just before we started the renovation and again just a week ago and now I'm thinking it all might be connected."

Lexie suddenly hesitated a little as she realized that everyone in the room was hanging on her every word. "Please Ms. Dawson, continue." The Sheriff said.

"Well," She started. "It may be nothing, but someone offered to buy the salon at way below market value _twice_."

Roosevelt's eyes narrowed and it was as if someone had turned a bright light on in a darkened room. "When was this?" He asked abruptly.

"First time was soon after we started renovations and the last time was the Monday following the first attack on the salon. It was some development corporation out of Stockton and their first offer to buy both buildings was ridiculously low. We turned them down flat and when he didn't come back we never gave it a second thought. Soon after, we started having problems with the construction work. It seemed like every other week some major screw up was costing us a shitload of money. It got to the point that, had it not been for Tina coming on board, we were going to have to fold even before we really got started." Lexie sighed.

"This rep for the development company, his name wouldn't happen to be Don Forsyth?" Roosevelt questioned.

Lexie nodded. "Yeah, that's right. The second time he came around, he put a little more money on the table, but I kind of got the feeling that he was vaguely threatening us." Lexie stopped at looked at her friend sitting up in the hospital bed sadly. "Now that I think about, that's exactly what he did, isn't it? He said he wouldn't want for the people responsible to come back again and maybe hurt someone this time. That's exactly what happened. This can't be a fuckin' coincidence."

"No, I don't believe in coincidences," Eli replied evenly. "Especially when my wife was approached by the same man, representing the same company, and making the same bullshit offer. Considering that she was targeted for an almost identical attack, I'm sure you can probably guess that she turned him down as well."

"Well shit," Opie muttered wryly as he made eye contact with Jax. It would seem that his best friend had been right to advise that they needed to look into other suspects, instead of solely focusing their attention on Max. "When was that?"

"The Monday after the first attack on the salon." Roosevelt replied.

"Shit!" Lexie exclaimed excitedly. "That asshole left our shop and must have headed straight over to Rita's."

"I think, Ms. Dawson, that we need to discuss this further. Your partner looks a little tired, so why don't we head down to the cafeteria and talk over coffee?" With Lexie nodding her assent, Roosevelt walked around the bed to hold a hand out to Fawn, which she shook with her good one. "You do your best to get some rest, Fawn. I want to you to know that I won't stop until I find out what's going on in _my_ town and those responsible are punished to the _fullest extent of the law_. No one else in Charming is getting hurt under my watch, understand?"

Fawn nodded her head slightly. "I do, and thank you for that. Please let Rita know how sorry I am."

"I will. She's in the middle of dealing with the insurance adjuster and cleaning up, so it'll probably be a few days, but I'm sure she'll stop by to see you soon." Roosevelt turned to cast a stern eye over the patches. "Gentlemen," He acknowledged as he stepped between them and ushered Lexie out of the room.

* * *

By the time Eli Roosevelt was done taking notes during his interview of Lexie Dawson, his hand was literally cramped from the effort. He had escorted the young woman to the hospital cafeteria where they sat at a quiet corner table as he grilled her without the Club's interference. Listening intently as she regaled him with stories of all the substantial problems they had endured, the Sheriff was somewhat impressed by the fact that the partners had refused to throw in the towel.

Having this information sooner would have been helpful and at first Roosevelt had been a little skeptical that the partners had never considered that Boland-Howard might be behind the attacks. Talking to Lexie away from the Club, however, convinced Eli that they had been so involved in getting the work done that the young women had not connected the dots until the second attempt to buy them out was made.

Roosevelt was really good at reading body language, a skill that had served him well working with the gangs of Oakland. He could tell that this was information the SAMCRO officers had already been privy to and had hoped to keep to themselves. They were probably in the midst of conducting their own investigation, and Roosevelt could hardly blame them for that. After all, one of their women had been brutally targeted, but so had _his_ wife. This Don Forsyth had a lot to answer for and Eli was determined to find him before the Club did.

In a way, it was strangely comforting to finally make a connection between the attacks on the salon and Rita's shop. With leads quickly petering out, Eli had been toying with the possibility that Mayor Hale had it right all along and that the attacks were some sort of retaliation by proxy against the Sons of Anarchy. It was the last thing he wanted and the last thing the town needed, especially after the ugly incident that had brought him to Charming in the first place four years ago. Mayor Hale had been doggedly pushing him, trying to convince him that what little evidence they had all pointed to SAMCRO's involvement. Unsure how he had made that determination, Roosevelt had been well on his way to believing it nonetheless.

But with this new revelation, the Club's alleged criminal activities no longer put them at the top of the list of prime suspects. Eli recalled the day he had come home from work only to be confronted by an irate wife who went on and on about a suave, but slimy snake oil salesman who offered to buy the shop and wouldn't take no for an answer.

It was surprising and bold behavior on part of the development corporation to target the wife of the commanding officer of the Morada substation in Charming. It spoke volumes of just who they might be dealing with. Roosevelt had to believe that the group must have significant pull in the County if they considered themselves to be so fuckin' untouchable.

The idea of a development corporation coming seemingly out of nowhere into Charming and attempting to buy up its businesses for way below market value sounded like a scam and set off alarms in his mind. The Sheriff had meant what he said when he told Fawn that he would do what he could to protect _his_ town. Charming was his and Rita's home now. It had given his wife the opportunity to own a successful business and the friendships and relationships she had been able to cultivate had made their transition to the small town all that much easier.

To Roosevelt, people like Floyd and Nicky had become more to him than just random people he saw on the street; they were neighbors who cut his hair and made him his lunch everyday. In a town like Charming where everyone knew everyone else, it was further impressed on the officer that he owed it to his neighbors to protect them to the best of his ability.

After the interview, Roosevelt had escorted Lexie back to the ICU. Saying good-bye and thanking her for her time, he turned away and headed for the elevators. The plan was to head over to the station house in order to make some discreet inquiries about Boland-Howard. For some reason, his instincts were telling him to play this new lead close to his chest.

"Interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

Roosevelt looked up to see the SAMCRO President casually walking towards him. He raised his eyebrow as the patch came to a stop directly in his path and eyed him coolly.

"Yes, it is." Roosevelt paused. "Something you want to get off your chest, Teller?"

"Maybe." Jax replied casually.

The SAMCRO Prez had a lot of Intel swirling about in his head and he was trying to figure out the best way to say what he wanted to say without actually saying much or making any sort of commitment.

After Roosevelt had taken Lexie away, he had but a brief moment to talk to Fawn and assure himself of her well-being before his brothers had dropped the bomb regarding the true identity of her attacker. While the patient was taken away for another CAT-Scan with Harry as her escort, the Club's top three quickly kicked around possible scenarios the new Intel suggested. But with Lexie being pressed to give Roosevelt probably a little too much information, Jax realized that the Sheriff would soon be taking a close look at the development corporation which could possibly clue him into Chip Jr.'s involvement, something Opie and Tig did not happening. Neither did Jax, but at the same time, the nagging feeling that something deep and dark was going on in his town was clawing at him.

If his suspicions were true, their regular mode of operation—i.e., killing shit—was not the way to deal with it. Jax had spent the last hour or so contemplating the fact that for the first time since the change in regime in Charming law enforcement, SAMCRO might have to consider the possibility of teaming up with the Sheriffs Department in order to rid the town of a bigger threat. Which was why he found himself standing in front of Lieutenant Roosevelt.

"Looks like with this new information that has fallen into your lap the possibility that there's an outside player involved might be at the forefront of your mind. I'm sure you're smart enough to also take into consideration that this third-party might also be just a distraction." Jax advised non-committaly.

Roosevelt chuckled. "What are you driving at, Teller? Just spit it out."

Jax smirked and shook his head. "I ain't driving at shit, Sheriff. I'm just saying that it seems like we have a common enemy and it may be wiser to go digging around our own backyard first before we root around in other yards that are further away. Whoever is responsible is not only endangering the town, but is hurting its citizens as well. I'm sure the brutality of the attack on Fawn Trager cannot sit right with you."

"Of course it doesn't." Roosevelt snapped.

"Then I think once you examine the situation closely, you'll realize that SAMCRO has always put Charming and its people first. We're not the enemy within, Sheriff. You might want to start by considering just who exactly is the real threat to mom-and-pop businesses in this town. You look deep enough, and you'll realize that threat doesn't come wrapped in leather and riding Harleys. It wears custom-made suits and tools around town in cages worth more money than the majority of people in Charming make in a year. It just makes me wonder how, without a name like Oswald or _Hale_ , that would be possible." Jax advised knowingly before heading back to Fawn's room. "Just saying."

* * *

Having enjoyed breakfast at a surprisingly good diner in town, Colleen Trager had felt the need to clear her head. Getting into her compact rental car, she headed for the highway to take a long, scenic drive. By the time she noticed the time on the dashboard clock, she was surprised to find herself more than half way to Oakland.

Turning around after stopping for a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes, Colleen spent much of the drive back to Charming contemplating her many ill-fated life choices. According to her co-workers back in Oregon, she had a reputation for being somewhat bi-polar. In the past, Colleen had chosen to believe that they had just been teasing her about being a little bit of a hard ass when it came to dealing with her underlings. Now she was starting to wonder if maybe she really was one of thousands of people who lived their entire lives undiagnosed. It would certainly explain a lot when it came to many of those life choices and her relationship with her two daughters.

Being a nurse, Colleen knew that people expected a certain level of compassion and empathy from her, especially when it came to the patients in her care. Although Colleen didn't think of herself as a hard or unfeeling woman, her goal had always been to provide her patients with the best possible care without allowing herself to become emotionally invested. Along with sore feet and an aching back, bonding with a patient was a job hazard Colleen tried to avoid. Like wearing comfortable shoes and using a heating pad on her back whenever she got the chance to sit down, keeping herself emotionally detached allowed her to do her job efficiently. The fact was, she had seen too many colleagues burn out too soon for caring too much. Colleen had worked too hard and too long to let herself suffer the same fate, so she did what she could to distance herself from any emotional attachments.

Without actually realizing, however, Colleen had allowed a measure of that control, that emotional distance into her relationships with her family, especially with her children. Fawn in particular.

Part of her apathy, Colleen was sure, had to do with the fact that she had never been keen on having children in the first place. Considering that her own mother had been an epic failure at the task herself, Colleen had never really considered herself mother material. Everything changed for her, however, the day Dawn was born.

Although the pregnancy itself had been a surprise, it was practically love at first sight for Colleen the first time she got to hold her firstborn. Mother and daughter had bonded immediately as Colleen threw herself into motherhood full throttle. By that time, Alex had yet to join the Marines, but had been spending a considerable amount of time hanging around the Sons' Tacoma Clubhouse. Although he always continued to provide for them with his meager earnings, the only times he'd come home usually ended with Alex practically having to force her to open her legs for him. Colleen had started to resent those times with her husband, especially when the result was her getting knocked up for a second time.

Colleen tried bonding with infant Fawn, but found it nearly impossible. She had naturally assumed that she would instantly fall in love with her second born like she had with Dawn, yet only felt a slight twinge of guilt when she didn't. Even though many considered her a doting mother as her young daughters thrived under her care, the truth was Colleen knew she had fallen into the trap every parent falls into, but refuses to admit: she favored one child over the other. After the birth of her second child, after it was already too late, Colleen realized she had been right all along about not being mother material, only managing to gather just enough love in her heart for one child. On some level, Colleen knew that Fawn had realized this as well.

For the last couple of days, Colleen had spent most of her free time at her youngest daughter's bed side, much in the way that a good mother would. Although she considered herself as having moved on, coming face-to-face with Alex again after 11 years had moved Colleen enough to dwell on the past and knew that she was witnessing it repeat itself with Fawn.

At 17, Colleen announced to her parents that upon graduating high school she would move to Washington to study at the Seattle University College of Nursing. She hadn't been asking for their input and didn't care what they had to say one way or the other. She had worked too hard academically to turn down a four-year scholarship even if there were plenty of schools in Oregon she could attend. It shouldn't have surprised her, however, that her parents hadn't put up much of a fight. As a matter of fact, they took the news pretty well, confirming once and for all that, even as an only child, she had been more of an inconvenience than a truly treasured member of the family as far as George and Eileen McDonnell were concerned.

With rent ridiculously high in Seattle, Colleen found herself a studio apartment in a working class neighborhood in Tacoma, about a 40 minute commute to her school, and a job working nights at a truck stop diner. For the first six months, Colleen had dutifully gone to school and worked her shitty job, but somewhere along the way she realized that she had actually enjoyed a more active social life back home in Eugene. Determined to change that, Colleen started hanging out after classes at the Student Union instead of rushing home to get a couple of hours of study time in before heading to work.

Young, vibrant and outgoing, Colleen quickly started making friends, including fun-loving city girl Dana Becker. Soon, the two became the best of friends as Dana taught her about make-up, fashion and how to party. Practically overnight, Colleen morphed from a very pretty, but wholesome girl-next-door into a red-headed vixen and they quickly became inseparable as they enjoyed the college party scene together, going so far as to coordinate their class schedules around their social lives.

Finally enjoying her time in Seattle to the fullest, Colleen found herself letting go of her inhibitions with the aid of the free-flowing drinks that always seemed to come her way whenever she and Dana went out. Suddenly, Colleen was the life of the party and because she resisted dating anyone exclusively, she managed to become quite popular in spite of or because of her many conquests. Although she had lost her virginity at 16 in the back seat of her ex-boyfriend's brother's car back home, it hadn't been what she expected. She had been quite disappointed to discover that mediocre sex was the best she could expect and didn't understand its appeal. Or at least that was the case in Eugene. In Tacoma, however, Colleen met a lot of men, not boys, and that had made all the difference in the world. She not only enjoyed sex, but couldn't get enough of it.

Soon, going to class became a burden. Why should she waste her youth and beauty studying anatomy in preparation for a life emptying bed pans? Plus, having to work the crappy shifts the full-time waitresses couldn't be bothered with while trying to avoid being mauled by the truckers that frequented the diner had stopped being fun a long time ago. So without a word to no one, not her parents, not Dana, Colleen dropped out of school and quit her job.

Still just barely legal at 18, Colleen was too young and too pretty to be unemployed for long. She quickly landed a new job working as a cocktail waitress at Rusty's, a bar in a part of town known for its dive bars and strip clubs. The pay was good and the tips even better and so was the atmosphere. Going to work was like partying nightly and life only got more interesting the night she came across her first biker. She had heard a lot about the local MC known as the Sons of Anarchy. With their Clubhouse on the south side in Tacoma's industrial area, where they also ran a scrap metal and fencing business, Colleen had never had the opportunity to come across one before. But her life changed radically once she had.

Although Colleen had heard that the SOA Clubhouse was the place to go if you wanted to party, she had also heard it was by invitation only and Dana didn't surround herself with the types that liked to hang around bikers. Dana's type had leaned towards the pretty college boys who drank a lot of beer and wanted you to blow them in front of their friends. Little did Dana—and Colleen, for that matter—know that bikers really weren't that much different from baseball cap-wearing frat boys.

The leather-clad biker that had walked into Rusty's that night so long ago looked rough and dangerous and even though he wasn't particularly good-looking, he was charismatic. The brawny biker had taken one look at the leggy redhead in her uniform, a black tank top with a plunging neckline, black mini-skirt that stopped just under her ass and four inch heels, and moved fast to stake a claim by chatting her up and flirting shamelessly. After her shift was over, Colleen headed out to the parking lot to discover the bearded biker waiting for her. Patting the bitch seat on the back of his ride with a large hand covered in silver rings, he had given her a "come hither" look and that was all it took. By the time Colleen realized what she was doing, she had jumped onto his bike with all the giddy glee of a child being taken to a party. Feeling the powerful engine of the Harley ripping through her muscles as she clung to his back, Colleen knew that her life was about to change again.

Within two months, Colleen had become not only a regular at the Tacoma Clubhouse, but one of its most sought-after sweetbutts. Although she had to claw and fight her way through a throng of Club women and work her way through the ranks of Club members, eventually, Colleen was one of only a handful of girls that could pick and choose among the patches. It wasn't unusual for the brothers to fight over her and Colleen loved the attention and thoroughly enjoyed being showered with money and perks because she was in such high demand. For a while, it even looked like she had a good chance of making the rare leap from sweetbutt to old lady. Then something happened that changed all that.

Colleen Catherine McDonnell meet Alexander Trager, the man she would marry and grow to love and hate with equal amounts of passion.

Alex had been young, wild and crazy and Colleen had loved that about him. He also packed some serious heat in those crotch-hugging jeans he favored back then and had probably been the best fuck she'd ever had in her life. He hadn't been a member of the Club when they first hooked up and although Colleen had been on her way to landing a high-ranking member of the Tacoma charter as an old man, she couldn't deny her attraction for Alex. He had been a hang-around, not even a Prospect yet, but Colleen didn't care. They fell hard for each other and within a few months of meeting, Alex had knocked her up. Before she knew it, Colleen was married with a baby on the way.

They probably could have made a decent go of it, had not Alex enlisted with the Marines for the medical benefits and slightly higher pay. He returned to Tacoma after several tours of duty in the Middle East and South America a changed man, someone she hardly recognized. Her father, a WWII vet, would say Alex had been shell-shocked. Nowadays, what he would have been diagnosed with was PTSD—Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. After receiving a medical discharge for what would become known simply as the "Goat Incident of 1987", Alex spent much of his time away from home, looking for distractions that would chase whatever demons he had brought home with him. Eventually, he fell in again with SAMTAC, this time as a Prospect, and in about a year became a full-fledged member. As far as Colleen was concerned, that had been the beginning of the end.

Having distanced herself from her sweetbutt past, Colleen was now a young mother of two young daughters working a series of dead-end jobs. Even though she could have used a distraction herself, she stayed away from the Clubhouse. Knowing exactly what her husband was up to on the nights he didn't come home, namely taking up with anyone and anything as long as she had two sets of lips he could wrap around his impressive cock, Colleen grew resentful and bitter in her marriage. Soon, arguments about money and living in a shitty one bedroom apartment grew even uglier when Alex all but stopped trying to hide the fact that he was fucking around on her.

So it would be an understatement to say that she completely lost her shit when her old man announced that he was jumping charters and moving them to Charming. Colleen had gone bat-shit crazy. Even though she was tempted to believe that nothing could be worse than the shit hole they called home at the time, Colleen would be damned if she was going to let Alex relocate them to some sleepy backwater town in Northern California. When Alex set off to Charming to get settled before moving his family down, Colleen realized that it was time to make another radical change in her life.

Suddenly longing for the rolling hills and quiet life of Oregon, Colleen planned her next move. With her parents growing older, she knew it was only a matter of time when they would need assistance and became dependent on their only child. Before that happened, Colleen decided to make the most of whatever free childcare her parents could provide—along with room and board for Colleen and her daughters—in order to go back to school and finish what she had started and so foolishly had left behind.

Once she was back in Eugene, nothing her old man said could convince her to leave. Having to live under her parents' roof again had been a bitter pill to swallow, but she would have done anything to make sure she wouldn't need Alex anymore. Her old man had resisted the idea of separating—if only for his daughters' sake—and was determined to drag her ass down to Charming. It had taken making some very bold threats to convince him that she believed that they were better off dead than living with him again. Colleen had tried convincing herself that she had made an empty threat, but the truth was she had been at her breaking point and, pushed hard enough, she just might have gone through with her threats.

In the end, Colleen ultimately came to believe that she had done what was best for the girls. The last thing she wanted was to expose them to an environment that would enable them to make the same mistakes she had and end up as someone's biker whore.

 _But it happened anyway_ , Colleen thought grimly, as she parked her car in the hospital lot. Slamming the car door behind her, she made her way into St. Thomas. _I guess blood tells after all_.

* * *

"I don't fuckin' believe this," Fawn sputtered as she looked into the folds of brightly-colored tissue paper inside the sparkly gift bag sitting on her lap as her old man looked on quizzically. "You're fuckin' crazy, Gem."

"Really?" Gemma drawled as she stood on the other side of Fawn's bed, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're just figuring that out _now_?"

"Yeah, little girl. I could have filled you in on that shit a long time ago." Neeta chimed in from the chair she occupied as she shook her head wryly. "I told her that was a completely inappropriate get well gift."

"It is not!" Her former employer shot back. "To my way of thinking, it makes perfect sense."

"Maybe for your ass, but as we have already established, you're crazy." Neeta sighed dramatically as she eyed Fawn. "You could have at least given the child something she would be able to make use of sooner rather than later like I did."

Fawn cast a smile over at the plump woman. "And I really do appreciate it, Neeta, although I don't want you to go to any trouble for me."

"Child, please. Doing what I can to help you out when you get out of this place is the least I can do." Neeta grinned. She had figured that offering to pitch in to take care of Fawn while she was convalescing would be well received. "Besides, I gotta do my part to fatten you up a little. I've known your old man for years, and he ain't too fond of women he can break over his knee."

"She's right about that, babe." Opie grinned as his woman tossed him a mock glare. "And I really appreciate your offer too. Fawn's going to need a lot of looking after."

Looking at his old lady and seeing her alive and smiling through the pain was the best gift anyone could have given him. All he could hope for was that Fawn had a similar constitution as her father and that she would heal quickly. And Opie was determined to do whatever was necessary to speed that process along.

Since Fawn had come to, her hospital room had been a hub of activity. With visitors streaming in and out all morning and into the early afternoon, Dr. Shay had ordered the nurses to strictly enforce the policy of only two visitors at a time in order to give Fawn a chance to rest. The Club, however, knew how to find its way around rules and managed to sneak in easily enough, as was the case right now.

With her room overflowing with flowers, stuffed animals and small gifts, Fawn didn't mind the constant traffic through her room. She had plenty of time to rest while unconscious and the last thing she wanted to do was sleep and happily encouraged the visits. The girls from the salon had already stopped by and Jolene Teller would come straight to the hospital after her last class, along with several more old ladies. The outpouring of love and support she was getting from her new family just confirmed to Fawn what a blessing it had been to open her heart to Opie Winston. Apparently, the SAMCRO VP was a package deal and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Turning his attention back to the conversation, Opie grinned as the three women continued to talk and bicker.

"I still can't believe you brought this in here." Fawn marveled.

"Hey, Ma, good looking out. I hope it's red." Opie interjected, a lecherous grin on his face as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Red?" His old lady eyed him. "What the hell do you think is in here?"

"Hopefully, some _really_ kinky underwear." He smirked. "It's just a shame that its gonna be a while before you can model it for me."

"Humph!" Neeta snarked. "Oh she's gonna need you to use it all right, but it ain't what you thinking. At least Gemma's not re-gifting it 'cause Lord knows she's got plenty of them. She had Clay to get it for her special."

"What?!" The VP was confused and just a little pissed as the image of his former President holding a delicate red thong in his burly hands invaded his brain. "Babe, what's in the fuckin' bag?" He asked exasperated.

"Better that I show you." Fawn replied as she eyed her now suspicious outlaw. Craning her head towards the door to make sure that the window in it was blocked by her old man's powerful frame, she shoved her good hand into the bag and pulled out the small object that fit quite comfortably in the palm of her hand.

"What do you think, baby?" Fawn held up the silver and black Colt .22 caliber semi-automatic pistol in a Charlie's Angels pose. "It's not kinky underwear, but do I look fuckin' hot or what?" She would have burst out laughing if her ribs could have taken the assault.

Opie turned to meet Gemma's sparkling and mischievous brown eyes with his own green ones. "Ma, are you fuckin' insane—"

"See?" Neeta hooted. "I told you you was crazy!"

Opie continued "—bringing that shit in here?" Neeta slumped back in her chair with her mouth wide open.

_You know, s_ _ometimes I just forget I'm surrounded by a bunch of crazy ass white people._

"I wasn't going to leave it with her." The SAMCRO matriarch replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I figured you could take it home with you and when her wrist heals you can teach her how to use it. It's just big enough to do the job, but it shouldn't beat up her hand too badly." Gemma sighed. "It's just too damn bad she didn't have one on her that night."

"I know," Opie said quietly. "I just never thought—" He sighed, frustrated with himself for not providing his old lady with a weapon to protect herself.

Donna had never been interested in owning or learning how to use a gun and it had just never occurred to him to ask Fawn how she felt about it. His best friend used to take Jolene out to the streams for target practice all the time and she owned several legally licensed guns, even though she never actually carried one. While he was grateful to Gemma and Clay for being so thoughtful, Opie realized that his lack of foresight on this matter had been irresponsible of him.

Seeing the look on his face, Fawn realized that her outlaw was beating himself up unnecessarily and moved quickly to put his mind at ease. "Come here, Redwood." Fawn said softly. As he made his way towards the bed, she put the gun back into the gift bag. "You did everything you could to protect me, Ope. _I_ was the one who fought you every step of the way and I paid the price for not trusting you. I won't ever make that mistake again." She caressed his bearded cheek as he wrapped his arms around her. "I have to say, giving my crazy ass a gun might be a big mistake, but I'd love to have you teach me how to use it."

 _It sure as shit would have come in handy that night_ , Fawn said to herself as she thought about the asswipe she knew was now living on borrowed time _._ Although Opie had not said as much, she knew that soon there would be a group of leather-clad men sitting around a Redwood table planning retaliation against the man that had dared to do harm to someone under SAMCRO's protection.

Nuzzling the side of her face, Opie was about to reply when the door to the room suddenly opened.

"Well," Colleen said quietly. "I see that you're finally awake."

* * *

For a moment, the room was completely silent. For Neeta, sitting in the far corner of the room as an outside observer, it was almost as if a dark cloud had fallen over everyone.

As her blue eyes met her mother's determined green ones, Fawn inwardly winced. She had been bouncing between looking forward to seeing her mother and dreading their reunion. Not speaking to Colleen for nearly four months, it had come as a great surprise to hear that her mother was in Charming. Colleen had actually come to surprise Fawn for the grand opening. She actually had to keep reminding herself of that as she said a quick prayer that shit between her and her mother not blow up in her face.

 _But if her face is anything to go by, it looks like Colleen came ready for a fight_ , Fawn thought, suddenly weary as she realized that she really wasn't in the best frame of mind to deal with her mother's legendary temper. Unfortunately, there was no help for it, but the last thing she wanted was her mother to embarrass her in front of her family, so she figured it was best to make the introductions quick and get rid of everyone so that she could handle the ensuing drama.

"Hey, Mom." She greeted quietly. "You know me, right? Always have to drag shit out. It was almost like making a big entrance."

"Yes, I guess you always did have a flair for the dramatic." Colleen replied evenly. Walking over to the bed, she nodded to the giant patch, who stepped aside so that she could greet her daughter. Bending down, Colleen placed a brief kiss on her daughter's cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I was driving around, trying to clear my head. I got the message at the hotel that you were awake and came right over. I guess I lost track of time."

"That's not totally surprising. You must have been frantic with worry." Gemma retorted, her slightly sarcastic tone unnoticeable to everyone except Fawn. Colleen turned to face the SAMCRO matriarch as she held out her hand. "It's been a long time, Colleen."

As far Gemma was concerned it wasn't long enough. The last time she'd had contact with Fawn's mother was when a niggling suspicion regarding Fawn had pushed her to call Colleen in Oregon. She had smelled a fuckin' rat when Dawn had shown up out of the blue in Charming claiming that her sister had fallen off the wagon and needed to go to rehab. Gemma had been right and Colleen had confirmed that Fawn was fine. Something else had, at the time, bothered the SAMCRO matriarch about Colleen's overall response, but she had pushed it aside, too intent on trying to stop Tig from being snookered by his own kin, something that she had not been able to do.

"Gemma," Colleen replied, hesitating before shaking her hand as she eyed the older woman. She had to admit that Jackie had not been exaggerating. Gemma looked more than good for her age. The last time she had seen her in person had been before Dawn was born. She remembered thinking how glad she was that Gemma wasn't a SAMTAC old lady. As the old lady of not one, but two national presidents, Gemma felt entitled to interfere and wasn't the type of woman that allowed shit to happen in her Club unless she knew about it. Colleen was sure that she hadn't changed much at all.

Fawn quickly introduced another woman in the room to her and although Colleen was polite, she barely concealed the fact that she wasn't really interested at all in meeting anyone. Fawn gritted her teeth behind her lips. Her mother had a very perfunctory way of dealing with people. Colleen was making it abundantly clear that she had little interest in anyone else in the room, especially as she could barely conceal her animosity towards the lone man in the room.

But Fawn was not about to sweep the love of her life under the fuckin' carpet, least of all for her mother's sake. "Mom, if you haven't already met him, this is Opie Winston," Fawn paused and continued with a defiant and proud tone in her voice. "My old man."

"We've met." Came Colleen's short reply, her emerald green eyes refusing to meet Opie's in acknowledgment of his presence. Obviously, no one had bothered to mention her introduction to SAMCRO or the fact that Colleen had made her feelings about her daughter's involvement with the man towering over her abundantly clear.

"Mrs. Trager," Opie said by way of greeting, refusing to be dismissed as nothing more than an annoyance. He was Fawn's old man and nothing was going to change that. Colleen Trager was mistaken if she thought that a few well-aimed barbs at his expense the first time they met would chase him away. He was a big boy and he'd come up against worse than Tig's bitterly crazy ex.

Although he still simmered with anger after their first encounter, the last thing Opie wanted was to upset his Big Red by causing her anymore stress, nor was it necessary for her to defend him to her mother, which he was certain she would jump at the chance to do. "Maybe we should step outside and give you two some time alone." Opie offered as he eyed Fawn. At her nod of consent, he motioned for Gemma and Neeta to leave the room. "I'll be right outside in the waiting room if you need me, baby." He advised after kissing Fawn tenderly on the forehead.

Colleen tossed her handbag at the foot of Fawn's bed and pulled a chair closer to her daughter's side before sitting down. She waited for the door to close behind the biker before she spoke. "Well, he certainly seems to be protective of you. Too bad he's just a tad too late."

Fawn sighed heavily. "Really, Mom? That's how we're starting this conversation after not speaking for nearly four months?"

"Well, what choice have you left me, Fawn?" Her mother retorted. "Maybe you may have forgotten, but I haven't. I _warned_ you that coming to Charming was a mistake that would have serious consequences for you. Now look where you've ended up, in a hospital bed after almost dying because of your connection with that Godforsaken MC."

"Okay, first off, nothing you could have said was gong to stop me from coming to Charming. Both you and Dawn chose not to be bothered by being by Dad's side after he nearly died. That was on you, and I won't take you to task for it, but I wasn't going to let him leave this world without saying what I needed to say."

"Two things will survive a nuclear holocaust, Fawn. Cockroaches and your father." Colleen retorted condescendingly. "Dying would be too good for him."

Giving her mother a dead-eye glare, Fawn bit her tongue so hard she could actually taste blood. She was all too familiar with Colleen and how she operated in trying to get a rise out of her. In spite of still being in pain, Fawn was in a happy place in her life and refused to give her mother the satisfaction of getting to her. "Dad needed help and I'm glad I was here for him, just like he was there for me when I needed him most."

Colleen made a disgusted sound as she rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly.

Ignoring her, Fawn continued. "And you're dead wrong about the Club. SAMCRO's not responsible for what happened to me."

"Ha! And you really believe that, don't you?" Colleen mocked as she crossed her arms under her chest. "Shit, that Winston boy must be hung in proportion to his size and I'm sure he's laying that pipe just right too, enough for you not to see what's right in front of your face."

Fawn smiled sardonically. "Hey, I've got no complaints in that department. You're right. He's hung like a horse and knows exactly what to do with it. But all that aside, my eyes are wide open, Mom."

Colleen crossed her leg over her knee as she looked at her daughter with a mixture of anger and sympathy. "You think they are, but they're not. Your father has had you sipping on that MC Kool-Aid since you were a child. Your knight in shining leather on a steel and chrome horse. I used to think that of your father too, a _very_ long time ago. You know what woke me up? Living a shitty, miserable life while raising two small children practically on my own as my old man whored around. And you're stupid if you think it only happens on runs. You stick around long enough and you're going to learn the hard way that you're nothing but a piece of meat to these men. Your _old man_ included."

Fawn eyed her mother as she reached for the bottle of water on the table and took a sip. Not only was her throat dry, but she needed to get the taste of blood out of her mouth. If Colleen kept this up, Dr. Shay might end up having to reattach her severed tongue.

Holding on to her composure, Fawn started calmly. "I was there, Mom, so I'll be the first one to agree that Dad wasn't a fuckin' saint—"

"Well, thank you!" Colleen scoffed. "I guess that's something."

"But you weren't perfect either. _Oh no_ , not by a long shot." Fawn retorted, raising her good hand to stop the words that were about to fall out of Colleen's open mouth. "You're always talking about all these sacrifices you made for me and Dawn, but did it ever occur to you that maybe it was Dawn and me that were making the sacrifices?"

"Oh, please! Money may have been a little tight while I was going to school, but you girls never wanted for anything." Colleen claimed, brushing Fawn off.

"Except for our parents." Fawn replied soberly. She could see her mother's jaw click with tension as she stared at Fawn as if she had just sprouted a second head.

"So, what now? Your father filling your head with fuckin' fairy tales about how we could have lived happily ever after had we come to live in this Podunk town?" Colleen squeaked out in a high-pitched voice. "I'm always the bad one, aren't I? Your father hung the fuckin' moon, but I'm always the baddie."

"I didn't say that, Mom," Fawn said calmly. "But at least Dad owns up to the mistakes he's made. He can't make up for all the lost years, but at least he's trying. God knows he's not perfect and sometimes I want to choke the shit out of him, but I don't because I know he's _trying_."

Colleen shook her head, her eyes large wet pools of self-pity. "You have no idea what I went through with that man and you expected me to make shit work because you wanted your parents together?!"

"Hell's no!" Fawn nearly shouted. "You're not listening. _I was there_ and I may have been young, but I remember how bad it was between the two of you. But none of that concerned Dawn and me. We just wanted and needed both of our parents around. You didn't have to move to Charming, but you could have let us visit him like he wanted us to every once in a while."

"Yeah, right. I was just going to send my young and impressionable daughters down to live in some dirty Clubhouse while they visited their father." Colleen said sarcastically.

"No, I'm sure we would have stayed with Dad at his house." Fawn replied.

For a moment, Colleen was nonplussed. "The only permanent address your father's ever had in Charming is the Teller-Morrow garage. What house are you talking about? "

"I'm talking about the two bedroom house that sat empty for years while Dad waited for his family. He got it six months after coming to Charming. He said he brought it for us, and by us he meant you too, Mom."

Colleen was speechless. _A house? Alex bought me a house?_

"From the outside looking in, Dad and I don't have the perfect father-daughter relationship, but what we do have now works for us. I realize that, even though we spent so many years apart, the old man and I are a lot a like," Fawn smiled sadly. "And maybe that's why you and I don't get along so well. I remind you too much of the man that caused you so much pain, but that's okay. I've come to accept that I can get what I need emotionally from others," She smiled as she thought about Tina. "And there's nothing wrong with that, but you need to stop trying to rewrite history to lay all the bad shit at Dad's feet. I love you both, but I'm determined to learn from the mistakes you two made. I'm not letting go of my family here in Charming for anyone or anything."

Colleen shook her head dismally. "I understand that you've always been a Daddy's Little Girl, Fawn and if you were turning your life upside down to be closer to your father, more power to you. God knows you're going to need it. But you're throwing away everything you have in Seattle—a trendy job, a fabulous apartment and a years-long relationship with Max for Opie Winston and _this_?" She held out her hands to encompass the room. "That man is not only responsible for what happened to you, but for the death of his first wife—"

"Whoa!" Fawn managed to shout with great effort, causing her sides to ache thanks to her broken ribs. She needed to take a deep breath, but that would only cause her even more pain. "You don't know shit about Opie and his late wife."

"I know enough! Jackie told me—"

" _Jackie_ was probably repeating old rumors, innuendo and dirty gossip, Mom, so you need to tread very carefully with me when talking about my old man." Fawn's deep blue eyes sparked with suppressed fury. "Opie Winston has given me more in a few short months than Max ever did in almost six years. He loves me _exactly_ as I am and, like my father, I am _far_ from perfect. For the first time in my life I have someone that can see beyond his own needs to put me first. He has supported me every step of the way and encouraged me to keep going when shit got tough. He has a wonderful family—a sweetheart of a mom and two amazing kids who love me as much as I love them.

"I know you look at me and think what a disappointment I've been to you. After all, I'm an ex-junky who does hair for a living and who's now shacking up with a heavily tattooed biker in some backwater town. My life seems far from perfect to you and I can accept that, but you need to understand that the choices I have made in my life have made me who I am today and I don't think I've turned out so bad," Fawn shrugged one shoulder. "But I can't convince you of that. That's something you need to learn on your own and the only way to do that is by being a part of my life, like Dad. What you see is what you get, Mom. Now it's all up to you to decide if that will ever be enough."


	36. Crispy Critters

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

"I can't believe this shit!" Tiki growled as he looked down the table at his President. " _Chip_? The same piece of shit scumbag that tried to force himself on Ellie?"

"You mean the one you and me beat to a fuckin' pulp?" Opie spoke up before Jax got the chance to respond, his anger evident. "That would be the one."

"Son of a bitch!" Tiki pounded a fist on the table. _Should have killed the motherfucker when I had the chance!_

With Church having to wait until the Club's VP and SAA returned from Fawn's bedside, the hour was late and the sun had long since set. With a Clubhouse full of patches, now was the time to gather around the Redwood table and plan the unleashing of Mr. Mayhem on good ol' boy Chip Preston.

Everyone at the table remembered the day the self-entitled prick had turned up on the T-M lot. Chip had wasted no time in talking shit about how his car ended up in need of service. In the process, he had inadvertently revealed that the woman who attacked his cage with a crowbar had done so in defense of another young woman he was pressuring into having sex with him. When Tiki realized that young woman was none other than Ellie Winston, Chip had almost met a brutal and bloody demise, first thanks to Tiki and then Opie. Later that evening, the Club had summarily dumped the would-be rapist at his father's BMW dealership with a totaled ride and a warning from the SAMCRO VP of what would happen to Chip should he ever step foot in Charming again.

"Obviously the little shyte wasna' listening!" Chibs said angrily. "Shoulda nevah patched 'im up!" He declared as his brothers nodded in agreement.

"Shouldn't be too hard to find him though, right, Ope?" Tig flashed the VP sitting across from him with a smile that resembled a snarl.

"Nope," Opie casually flicked his cigarette ash. "Not after my old lady took a _huge_ chunk out his ear."

"Whaaaat?!" Bobby guffawed as Happy stood up to lead a standing ovation.

"Bitch is a biter, huh?" Happy raised a glass to Opie. "You brothers have made me proud, hooking up with some bad asses for old ladies." For the first time in days, Opie and Jax shared a genuine belly laugh.

After everyone settled down once again, Filthy Phil brought everyone's mind back to the task at hand. "Why would that asshole retaliate against Fawn now? That shit went down in Stockton months ago."

"Yeah," Half-Sack agreed as he scrubbed a hand through his unruly mop of blond hair. "No police report was ever filed. How would he even know where to find her?"

"He wouldn't," Jax started as leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. "While payback for Fawn interfering with his plans for getting laid is connected, it wasn't the main reason that douche bag came after her in the first place. Meeting up with Ope's old lady again was more a lucky by-product of his real agenda, which was trashing the salon. I had Juice reach out to Trammel and Eglee, who've been working at the Sheriffs Department in Modesto, and Eglee came back with some pretty solid Intel." He gestured to his Intelligence Officer. "Tell everybody what she got for us."

Juice flipped open the manila file folder in front of him containing the rap sheet of Charles "Chip" Preston Jr. and tapped it with his ringed index finger. "We've gone over this shit before. He's got a string of arrests—shoplifting, disturbing the peace, public intoxication, etc. On the surface, it seems like petty teenage bullshit but as we all know, this asshole has a sealed juvie record for several arrests for sexual assault. There weren't any new hits on his rap sheet, but I did notice that when he was pulled in last year for public disturbance and nudity in a local park, Eglee was the arresting officer. I reached out to her to see what else she could tell me, and she didn't even know where to begin."

Juice went on to explain that, according to Deputy Sheriff Candy Eglee, Chip Preston Sr.'s luxury auto dealership made him quite the wheeler dealer in the City of Modesto. Most of his influential connections were part of the upper echelon of Stanislaus County, mostly other businessmen who also served on the City Council. These connections, in turn, used their connections in law enforcement to make sure that accusations of Junior's "youthful indiscretions"—apparently known as "rape" among the uncivilized masses—never saw the light of day. Keeping his son out of prison for sexual assault not once, but at least twice had essentially dried up Chip Sr.'s deep well of favors owed to him by the City Council.

However, even after his father cut him off financially and knowing that Chip Sr. had run out of friends willing to help him didn't curb Chip Jr.'s reckless behavior. About a month after his beating courtesy of SAMCRO, Chip was pulled over for suspicion of driving under the influence. No longer a minor, Chip knew he was headed straight for jail until his friend, the passenger in the car, cut a deal that would let them both walk. After paying the cop off with cash and jewelry, both young men were sent on their way.

"How does Eglee know all this?" Opie asked after Juice finished.

"She heard it through the po-po hotline. She likes to keep close tabs on him, so her fellow officers feed her Intel on the creep whenever they come across it. See, last year wasn't the first time Eglee had come into contact with Junior." Juice started. "Even though she wasn't the arresting officer of record, the first time he had been accused of rape, Eglee and another female officer where assigned the task of interviewing the victim. Even now, Eglee says she can't stop thinking about the girl, saying that the little bastard had truly fucked her up. Eglee claims that they had Chip dead to rights with DNA and at least a dozen witnesses that saw them leave the party together, but not two days after pressing charges, the parents dropped the case. They claimed that their daughter _lied_ about being raped, and get this. Chip's father had the balls to threaten pressing charges against the girl for malicious prosecution."

"Are you fuckin' kidding?!" Bobby bellowed as the table erupted with anger.

Opie looked over at Jax with flared nostrils as he shook his head in disbelief. "I should have killed him, brother."

Jax's jaw clenched angrily at the thought of his niece Ellie in the hands of that predator. Nodding, he patted his best friend on the bicep. "You're gonna get another chance, bro. I promise."

"Eglee says she's been looking for a way to burn him, but apparently Chip's made of Teflon 'cause nothing sticks. She wouldn't take any money from the Club for the Intel, saying that if anything should ever happen to him she wouldn't shed any tears over it." Juice stated, the true meaning of what he was saying plainly written on his face.

"As fascinating as this lesson in Douchebaggery 101 is," Clay spoke up as he toyed with the rings on his fingers. "This info doesn't really help us any, does it?"

"Oh but it does," Juice smiled as he whipped another rap sheet out of the file. "It was the name of Chip's passenger during the drunken joyride that got my attention."

"So who is it, for fuck's sake?! Spit it out already." Tig said angrily.

Juice placed the rap sheet face up and slid it down the table. "His friends call him Sam. His gov'mint name," He paused. "Samuel Paul _Boland_."

"The fuck you say!" The VP growled as he snatched up the rap sheet.

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Tiki asked as he wracked his brain for an answer.

" _Boland_ -Howard Economic Development Corporation." Jax offered.

Opie nodded. "He's Leonard Boland's son."

Clay sat back and watched his brothers become even more enraged and excited as their voices overlapped one another, shooting Juice with rapid-fire questions. Things were finally shaping up, Clay realized with a satisfied nod. With names and faces now attached to both their target and his possible accomplice, Clay knew that they were ready to buckle down and plan out their strategy. With the name Boland-Howard coming up for a second time in connection to Fawn and the salon, however, Clay had his theories. As Jax had mentioned earlier, the attack on Fawn had been a crime of opportunity. The salon had been the real target, making it a two-fold problem to deal with. Retaliation against ol' Chippy Boy for the brutal attack on Fawn was a cakewalk, that is, as soon as they were able to locate the little ass wipe. Boland-Howard, Clay sixth-sense was telling him, was in itself a problem with deeper roots in Charming. He wondered just how his son-in-law would handle the new knowledge and waited. He could almost see the gears already turning in Jax's head.

Sam Boland's rap sheet was being passed around the table and it revealed a young man who had probably been in his early teens when his mug shot had first been taken. Then tall and gangly, he had blond hair and blue eyes and weighed about 160 pounds. Handsome in a rugged way, his cold eyes were hard and stared out of his face above a preppy-looking sweater.

"So this is _one_ of the assholes we're gonna kill." Tig stated grimly as his eyes bore holes into the mug shot.

"Seems pretty likely to me that he was Chip's accomplice," Juice replied. "I mean, he was spotted with Chip only a few months ago. He's now almost 22, so he's probably filled out some, which would account for the other guy on the security tape."

"His name's Boland," Tiki exclaimed. "I don't see what more proof we need. It's way too big of a coincidence."

"So if these two douche bags trashed the salon the second time, it's safe to assume that they were responsible for the first time as well." Bobby said thinking out loud as he flicked the ashes from his cigar into the ashtray in front of him. "Good thing we didn't find Max, huh? Looks like he wasn't our bad guy after all."

"Yeah, well we already got reamed for that one by Fawnzy." Tig replied irritably.

"Aw, shit, Ope. I bet that little girl was _pissed_ you kept her out of the loop." Clay retorted with a little grin.

Opie ran a hand through his hair. "Let's just say it's a fuckin' miracle I can still take a shit without it hurting, she stuck her dainty foot so far up my ass." Despite the seriousness of the situation, his brothers couldn't help but laugh.

"So we're operating under the assumption that this development corporation is behind both hits on the salon and the one on the flower shop," Half-Sack reiterated. "Now it's just a question of what we're gonna do about it."

"That's the easy part, bro. We're gonna find these assholes and blow shit up," Happy said with his distinct gravelly voice, his cold dark brown eyes focusing on his Unholy brother-in-crime Tig. "And that includes all the shot-callers too. This is a matter of fuckin' honor. _Nobody_ shits on SAMCRO—especially not on our women—and gets away with it!"

As his brothers continued to roar their approval and full support, Jax eyed them all. There was no doubt that his brothers were highly exercised over this new development. So was he. After operating in the dark for over ten days trying to track down leads, they now had a solid connection to the development corporation who tried to buy Fawn and her partners out.

But Jax realized that it simply wasn't enough. Happy was definitely on the right track that everyone associated with the move against Fawn and the salon was deserving of a full measure of outlaw justice, but he had to consider how such retaliation would ultimately affect the Club. The last thing he wanted was any sort of blowback that would put SAMCRO back in the same situation they had been in four years ago. More importantly, he didn't want to see Ope or Tig on death row for mass murder.

Since his last conversation with Roosevelt at St. Thomas, Jax had been trying to think in terms of keeping one step ahead of the Lieutenant. At this point in the game, however, Jax knew that spending time over-thinking the situation wasn't going to sit well with his brothers. Every single man at this table wanted justice for Fawn, but in the long run Jax knew that Opie had a cool head and could be convinced to approach this from an angle that didn't involve blowing shit up. On the other hand, convincing the blue-eyed crazy man who watched his back to take the path of least resistance was going to take a united effort. Of course there would be bloodshed. That was without question, but if what Jax's gut was telling him was true, meting out that type of justice across the board could have far reaching consequences for the Club in Charming.

"Okay, settle down," Jax ordered quietly and his brothers complied. He was already pulling shit together in his head but he needed more information. "Juice, were you able to dig up anything else on Boland-Howard?"

The Intelligence Officer shook his head. "I followed the paper trail until it just stopped cold. Peeling away what layers I could, it definitely looks like a dummy corp on paper."

"A dummy corp for what?" Opie asked.

"Don't know, yet." Juice replied. "I think we might need to focus on Leonard Boland and his kid. They live in Cobblestone. Maybe we can do some plain clothes surveillance—"

"What for?!" Tig interrupted as he leaned back in his chair. "You know they live in Cobblestone? Then all we need to do is pick their asses up and take them up to Piney's old cabin. Me, Ope and Happy will take it from there."

"Sounds like the best plan I've heard all day." Opie readily agreed.

To Jax, hearing that from his best friend disconcerted him. He had hoped that the discovery of new Intel with a direct link between Chip Preston and Leonard Boland would get Opie thinking like it had him. Jax could always count on his VP to adhere to SAMCRO's motto, _Brains Before Bullets._ But with Fawn barely escaping from a life threatening situation, the gloves had come off the gentle giant and Jax wasn't sure he could pull him back from the edge. He had gone through practically the same shit with his own old lady. Jax understood how the fear of losing the one you loved the most in the world could push a man to get reckless and do dangerous things. The love he had for his old lady and his best friend's level-headedness had kept Jax alive and out of prison when all he had wanted to do was "blow shit up". Now it was his turn to return the favor. After four tough years, Opie had finally found happiness again with Fawn and Jax was determined not to let Ope's need for vengeance destroy that for him.

So Jax exercised his veto power as the Club's President to keep his two brothers in line.

"Not to me it doesn't." Jax said tersely. "We need to take a step back for a minute."

"And do what, Jax?!" Opie nearly bellowed. "That little fucker tried to rape and almost killed my old lady. Do you honestly think I'm going to just sit back and do jack shit?" He asked angrily.

"Of course not, Ope." Jax responded, his voice calm and even. "You know that when the shit is flying I will always have your back. But we need to be smart about retaliation, especially since this is personal for Roosevelt too. The last thing we need are the cops sitting on our asses because at the end of the day, I want those responsible in a fuckin' pine box and you and Tig alive and by my side, not rotting in some jail cell. That's all that matters." Jax reasoned.

It took more than a few minutes to get his point across to his VP and SAA, but while Opie reluctantly agreed that he could see his brother's point, Tig made it evident that he wasn't happy about it as he eyed Jax with cold unrelenting eyes.

"This is your Club, man, and you know I always follow your lead on shit, but this is _my kid_ , Jax." Tig argued. "What if this asshole comes after Fawnzy while she's laid up in the hospital? Meanwhile, we're just dicking around with our thumbs up our asses?"

"Right now we have two patches with Fawn at the hospital. If you don't think that's enough, I can send more down, bro." Jax countered. "But with the cops involved Chip and his friend would be fuckin' crazy to set foot in Charming now. I promise you we're gonna catch up with these assholes first, but _after_ we perform due diligence." He gave his brother a hard look, but tempered it by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Agreed?"

Tig sighed, but nodded.

Jax picked up the gavel lying on its side and slammed it down. "Meeting adjourned."

* * *

"Papa, you cheating!" TJ accused as he pointed a chubby finger at his grandfather.

"He is not, TJ. You just don't know how to count right." His big sister defended her grandfather as she sat across from him, the board game sitting on a low table between them. "Here, let me show you."

Clay grinned as the apple of his eye picked up the game piece and carefully counted off the right number of spaces. The three of them had been holed up in his man cave playing Chutes and Ladders since he had picked them up from Charming Elementary. With Jolene pitching in at the Winston home getting it ready for Fawn's release from the hospital at the end of the week and Gemma fixing dinner, he was enjoying having his grandkids all to himself.

It was always good being here with them rather than down at the lot. That was a fact that was especially true now after recent events. It would be an understatement to say that the atmosphere was very tense around the Clubhouse. Several days had passed since Fawn had come to and even though the Club had been working non-stop in gathering Intel and pulling together a plan, they weren't working fast enough according to Tig. But there was just so much they could do without knowing where Chip Jr. was hiding out or who was helping him.

Nearly round-the-clock surveillance on the homes of his and Sam Boland's fathers had proved thus far futile. It was the same story down at the dealership as well. According to the curvy blond receptionist—the same one that had tried pressing up on Opie during their last visit—no one, including Chip Sr., had seen Junior around in weeks. With Juice and Tiki laying on the heavy charm, she also confirmed that Chip Jr. was indeed pretty tight with Sam Boland and that he owned a black pick up truck—something Juice had already confirmed by hacking into Modesto's DMV database.

Opie and Tig had once again grilled Fawn regarding the attack, learning in the process that she had seen the face of Chip's partner, although she had no idea who he was. After being shown Sam Boland's mug shot, Fawn was able to positively identify him as the accomplice, adding that aside from destroying her salon, the young man hadn't been a complete douche bag. He had actually stopped Chip from raping her with a solid backhand to the face. That alone may have spared Sam Boland his life or, at the very least, keep Opie from killing him outright once they picked him up for questioning. Chip, on the other hand, was the one that had savagely assaulted and almost killed his old lady. He would get no such mercy.

Clay had been SAMCRO's President and SOA's National President for over fifteen years, and a patched member for over thirty. That much time and the all the experience and knowledge that came with it didn't just leave a man once he put the gavel down. Although his little girl would sometimes call him a "reactive nut job" and many who knew him well enough would agree, Clay was above all a strategist by nature. Not only was he capable of seeing the big picture and plotting his moves ten, sometimes fifteen and twenty steps ahead, but Clay could do the same from an opponent's perspective as well. What may have seemed like a reactive response on his part to others was usually well-thought out and planned ahead of time. Most of the time, no one but him ever saw it coming. Not even his own brothers.

After taking him under his wing when his old man died and making him his second-in-command when he knew the timing was right, all the while grooming him for the seat at the head of the table, Clay knew that his son-in-law had that ability as well. In a different time or place, Jax Teller would have made an extraordinary military commander. He certainly had the book smarts for it and what Jax believed was his gut instinct was actually his ability to see and plan his moves in the big scheme of things from both sides. That's why Clay knew, in light of everything they had learned over the course of the last few days, that it was only a matter of time before Jax came to the proper conclusion and sought him out for confirmation. However, with the Sanwa Sheriffs all over this situation as well, Jax had to make a move sooner rather than later. Clay would give him another day or two to get shit straight in his head before he approached the young man himself.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait that long after all.

"See, TJ. I was right." Maddy crowed as she placed her grandfather's game piece on the proper tile.

"Okay, but Papa is too good at this game." TJ pouted, his elbows on the table and his little fists holding up his cheeks.

Clay was about to respond when someone else did. "Don't worry, son. One of these days you'll get as good as the old man in planning your moves." Jax drawled from the open doorway, eerily echoing Clay's earlier musings.

Loud cries of "Daddy!" reverberated in the enclosed room as Jax's children jumped up from the floor. Making a beeline to their father, Jax stooped down and hoisted one up in each arm.

"Why are you here now, Daddy?" Maddy asked breathlessly after giving her father a hearty kiss on the cheek. "It's early still."

"I finished up at work a little early and with your momma busy for another couple of hours, I thought I'd stop by." Jax replied and then nodded his head towards Clay. "Hey, old man."

Clay leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Mind your manners, boy. I'm still big enough to whip your butt."

"Really, Papa?" TJ inquired with wide-eyed wonder from his perch against his father's chest. "Daddy's really strong."

"And young," Jax added tongue-in-cheek, earning himself a laser beam death glare from his father-in-law. "But Papa does have a pretty good head on his shoulders. Go help Grandma set the table. We've been invited to stay for dinner, but I need to talk with the old man first."

After setting them back down on their feet, the two children reluctantly obeyed their father and headed towards the kitchen. Jax sat down on one of the patchwork sofas and stretched his long legs out on the beat up coffee table. "Bro, when are you gonna fix this place up? Just 'cause you call it a man cave doesn't mean you have to be so damn literal. I'm always surprised there's never a grizzly bear camping out in here."

The old biker shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe one day I'll build up enough courage to turn baby girl loose in here," Clay drawled. "But somehow I don't think you came here to talk about my lack of home decorating skills."

Jax sighed. "No, I didn't." He looked at his stepfather. "I need to bounce some shit off of you."

"You know, I was just wondering when you'd stop by." Clay replied with a Cheshire grin.

"What? You into reading minds now, too?"

"No, but I don't have to be a psychic to know that this shit with Boland-Howard is troubling you."

"Troubled might be a bit strong," Jax stated. "But yeah, I am concerned."

"Well, start bouncing." Clay sat back in his recliner until his legs popped up, supported by the leg rest. "What's on your mind, son?"

Jax ran a hand through his hair. "A shit load, but mostly Ope and Tig. I'm having a hard time getting them to see the big picture and I'm afraid that if I let shit go unchecked, _everything_ will end up going sideways for us." He explained and paused as he rubbed his hands together in thought. Clay waited patiently for Jax to continue. "I mean, I know what they're going through, Clay. I was in a really bad place after Kyle went after Jo and I wasn't going to listen to what anyone had to say. I wasn't interested in waiting and had he not taken off like the piece of shit coward he was, I would've killed him right there in the Clubhouse. But in the long run, I know we handled that situation right because there was more at stake than just getting revenge for what he had done to Jolene. Kyle was a rat and that shit could have taken not only the charter down, but the whole MC."

"So you thinking this whole situation with Fawn might have a similar effect on the Club if not handled properly?" Clay asked thoughtfully, but he already knew the answer. Fuck, he already knew what the problem was.

"Exactly," Jax nodded. Shifting his sneakered-feet onto the floor in front of him, Jax leaned forward, his elbows on his denim-clad knees. "We know this shit with Boland-Howard trying to buy not only the salon, but the flower shop as well has to be connected to the hits. Even though on the surface it looks like someone's not only moving against the Club, but making trouble for us as well by going after Roosevelt's wife, I don't think that's the case at all. Whoever this player is, it's not some gangbanger trying to make a name for himself and his crew, like the CL four years ago. My gut tells me there's a player that's way bigger than that shit calling the shots and the Club ain't the target. _Charming_ is."

 _That's my boy! Do I know how to pick 'em or what_ , Clay thought as he inwardly grinned.

On the outside, however, he arched a skeptical eyebrow and asked, "What makes you say that?"

"It's a land grab, Clay. Boland-Howard is trying to buy up property. Juice may have hit a dead end when looking into their business, but logic tells me that Fawn and Rita Roosevelt weren't the only business owners approached about selling. They were just the only ones that resisted." Jax explained and stopped to gauge Clay's reaction, but the older man's craggy face was revealing nothing. Jax rubbed the hair on his chin and shook his head. "Maybe Ope's right. Maybe I'm over-thinking this shit." He said mostly to himself.

"No!" Clay suddenly came to life. "Don't stop, son. Keep going."

Looking at the former-SAMCRO President with a furrowed brow, it finally dawned on Jax that was Clay's way of telling him he was on the right track. "Now, if at the moment only Charming's business district is being targeted for a buyout, I have to figure that there must be something big at stake here. There must be a serious development in the works which will have a major effect on the whole town. Otherwise, why would Boland-Howard be operating under the radar?" Jax queried.

"I get the feeling you already know the answer," Clay said, longing for one of his cigars. "So go on."

"Two things keep leading me to the same conclusion, Clay. One, if there's some major development scheme happening in this town, there's no way that a certain founding son of Charming, who's made quite a pile of cash for himself by dabbling in real estate, would let something like that go forward without him getting a large piece of the pie." Jax declared. "And two, if that same founding son also dabbled, let's say, in politics and made a name for himself by running on the preservation of Charming platform, his constituents might not take too kindly to having the town sold out from under them, especially not by the man that used his office to change laws making it possible to do just that. Now tell me, am I on the right track?"

Clay chuckled. "Of course you are. I knew you'd figure it out the minute you heard that Boland-Howard was a dummy corporation, especially since SAMCRO has plenty of experience in that regard." He said referencing the Club's own Bluebird Bird Seed Company, a front for their gun-running operation. "This _founding son_ is buying up business properties under the guise of Boland-Howard. Sooner or later, his involvement in the redevelopment of Charming's business district will become public knowledge. However, I gotta figure that this is a long-term scheme that probably won't happen until _after_ he's left office, long after all the necessary property has been snatched up. Then no one can claim that a conflict of interest was involved rendering the whole scheme illegal." Clay grinned as the young man shook his head in something akin to disbelief.

"You know, sometimes I forget what a wily old bastard you are." Jax smirked.

"Hey, don't sleep on the elderly." He pointed a finger at Jax. "Now, getting to the real heart of the matter, knowing all of this has created a dilemma for you. On the one hand, you want Ope and Tig to get justice for Fawn, but on the other you have to find a way to keep this land grab from going forward 'cause, depending on the size and breadth of it, it could seriously impact SAMCRO's ability to earn. _And_ if there's one politician involved, you can be sure as shit that there are others involved too. This creates a sticky situation because shooting up City Hall definitely won't endear the Club to the townsfolk. So what's this plan you want Opie and Tigger on board with?"

Jax shook his head. "It involves doing something SAMCRO would never contemplate doing. As a matter of fact, I'm afraid Happy will shoot me in the head for even suggesting it, but it's the only way I can see out of this shithole." And for the next several minutes, Jax filled Clay in on his plan.

Clay sighed heavily. "Yeah, I can see why Hap would wanna kill ya. He and authority don't mix. Otherwise, it's definitely the path of least resistance."

"It may not be our usual way of handling shit, but there's wiggle room for retaliation against Fawn's attacker, plus in the long run, it's what's gonna keep the Club alive, out of prison, and earning." Jax stated emphatically. "I want to bring it to the table, but I'm gonna need your support. I'm gonna need you backing me up if I'm to have any hope of getting Opie and Tig on board with this." He fixed his intense blue eyes on his brother.

The plan, such as it was, was a bold one and there were definitely huge risks involved. However, taking current information into account and with the right man for the job in charge, the possibility that it would succeed existed.

Clay nodded slowly. "You can count on my support, Prez."

* * *

For Fawn, there was no truer sentiment than there being no place like home.

Comfortably ensconced in her old man's bedroom, propped up in the oversized bed with numerous pillows, the recovering convalescent was feeling a strong measure of relief at not being confined to the antiseptic atmosphere of St. Thomas. After all, hospitals were for the sick and infirmed and Fawn considered herself neither. As a matter of fact, she was a rapid healer as evidenced by the many tests she had taken over the course of her hospital stay. With the swelling reduced, the bleeding on her brain had completely subsided within 24 hours of Fawn regaining consciousness. Two days later, after her latest CAT Scan showed a marked improvement and no long term brain damage, Fawn began her campaign of nagging Dr. Shay to let her go. Insisting that she remain in the hospital for another couple of days, Dr. Shay finally discharged her patient under the condition that she would remain on bed rest until her follow-up appointment in a week.

Short of having her mother taking care of her—after all, she was bored, not a masochist—Fawn would have agreed to any condition set by Dr. Shay. Feeling fine while still being poked and prodded by doctors and nurses 24 hours a day was making her grumpy. Even though she wasn't the type to lounge around all day doing nothing, Fawn was so happy she was being discharged, she readily agreed to bed rest. However, she had no intention of remaining bedridden for more than a day, two at the most. Staying in bed only appealed to her if she had company but knowing her Redwood, he'd probably refuse to share a bed with her until she was completely healed. _That_ was not happening. Besides, with the grand opening back on track, she had too much to do to remain laid up.

However, Opie—also crazy happy that Fawn was being released—promised Dr. Shay that he would be responsible for making sure his old lady adhered to the doctor's advice. Which was why, despite having numerous offers from Tina, Jolene and Tig to recuperate in their homes where they could care for her, the SAMCRO VP had put his rather large and booted foot down. There was only one place his old lady belonged and that was at his side, under his roof. With Mary and the kids backing him up, Fawn had no choice but to follow her old man's demands. She made a big show of pouting and complaining about being told what to do, but in reality Fawn's heart was about to burst with the love she had for her old man and his immediate family. There was no where in the world she would rather be than in the Winston home, where she knew she would be loved and kept safe.

Although sincere about her feelings for the Winstons, staying at Opie's place would also give Fawn a little respite from having to deal with her mother while recovering. She loved Colleen, but her mother had the ability to exhaust her emotionally when she was at 100% peak physical condition. After their rather heated reunion, Fawn had felt so drained that she passed out and slept for nearly five hours. Afterwards, Fawn was convinced that Colleen had skipped town and had been completely taken by surprise to hear from Jolene that her mother was still in Charming. Fawn had put the ball in her mother's court when it came to improving their relationship. It gave her hope that maybe choosing to stay for a few more days was Colleen's way of telling her that she not only heard, but understood what her daughter was asking for.

Colleen continued to dutifully visit Fawn for about an hour every day at the hospital and she had even made an effort towards civility whenever coming across the Club or their family members. Although Fawn had to admit that her mother was indeed _trying_ , Colleen still treated Opie with apathetic disdain. Now that Fawn would be under her old man's roof, she was grateful that Colleen would restrict her contact with her to phone calls because, even though it would probably set back all the progress they had made, Fawn wasn't beyond losing her shit should her mother disrespect Opie in his own home.

Dismissing her absentee mother from her mind, Fawn gingerly wiggled her butt as she snuggled quite contentedly in the bed. Looking around the room from her perch, she noted a large bulk of her wardrobe set up neatly in the open closet and all her toiletries and cosmetics occupying about 95% of the space on Opie's mirrored dresser. Not to mention that her best male four-legged companion had appropriated and declared Opie's side of the bed as his own as he curled up next to his mistress, his tail wagging happily. During Fawn's hospital stay, Rocco had been taken in by the Tellers. According to Jolene, he had a great time horsing around with the kids and their dog Chopper, but his appetite had waned noticeably. His mistress' return had sent the pooch into a tailspin of delight and he had to be forcibly pulled out of the driveway by Harry as the car bringing Fawn home pulled in.

In preparation for Fawn's return, Opie had asked Tina to re-do his bedroom to conform to his old lady's tastes. With help from Jolene, Neeta and a number of Prospects, the bedroom had undergone a mini-transformation. Gone were the flowered wallpaper and worn carpet. The walls were painted a soft baby blue, which contrasted beautifully with the dark hardwood floor polished to a mirror shine. The room had been thoroughly cleaned and redecorated with new bed linens, window treatments and fresh flowers. After being steamed cleaned, the en suite bathroom had also been given a fresh coat of paint to match the bedroom. The rooms were now fresh and airy and Fawn's heart tightened in her chest when she realized that all traces of his late wife were gone from what Opie now called "our bedroom." With the new and recently-installed wall-mounted flat screen TV and her iPad, Fawn certainly didn't want for anything.

The best part was that tonight for the first time in days she would be able to share a bed again with her old man and Fawn was looking forward to her first uninterrupted night of sleep in days. Already accustomed to burrowing into her big and brawny man while she slept, Fawn found sleeping through the night in the hospital nearly impossible without Opie at her side.

Aside from the beautifully decorated bedroom, Fawn's homecoming had been without a lot of fanfare. Adhering to Dr. Shay's orders that Fawn get plenty of rest, Jolene had decided to postpone any official welcome home gathering, which was ironic considering how that same issue had caused much friction between the two old ladies at the very beginning of their relationship. A real celebration would only be proper not only when Fawn was fully healed, but when the bastards responsible for the attack were taken out of commission entirely. Only then would they have a real reason to celebrate.

Fawn looked up and smiled as Ellie knocked on the frame of the open doorway. "Can I come in?"

"You better," Fawn replied. "It's bad enough I'm holding actual conversations with Rocco, but it's even worse that I pause and wait for him to respond."

"It's only a problem when you start believing he's actually talking back." Harry smirked as he entered behind Ellie. Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped himself down at the foot of the bed and stretched out his long frame, scratching Rocco between his ears as he did so. "So, I take it that Dad's lockdown is already getting to ya, huh?"

Fawn sighed. "I don't see why. I've only been back half a day." She replied. "I guess I got used to never being alone at the hospital."

"It's only temporary, Fawn. Right now, the only thing that matters is that you get better." Ellie said anxiously as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

Fawn shook her head as she reached out and tucked a strand of Ellie's hair behind her ear. "No, sweetie, thanks. I'm good. As a matter of fact, I'm better than good. All that's left to heal on me are my broken bones. Dr. Shay said so herself, so there's no need to worry. I'm a lot tougher than I look." She assured the teenager.

"Hell's yeah!" Harry agreed as Rocco inched closer to the young man to lick his stubbled cheek. "You know she's tough if she's willing to take on our old man."

Ellie eyed her twin with a slight smile. That confident bravado Harry had just spoken with had been pointedly absent during their vigil as they waited for Fawn to wake from her coma. Although they had never discussed it out loud, Ellie knew Harry had been just as afraid of losing Fawn the way they had their mother as she had been. It would be a painful process to have to go through again, made only worse knowing that their father would end up devastated beyond measure. Even though all they did was bicker and snipe at each other at the beginning of their courtship, it had been a wonderful thing to witness as their father came back to life whenever he was around Fawn.

Even though no one would ever replace their mother in their hearts, especially Opie's, Fawn had taught them that there was always room enough to let love into their lives again. As the months passed, it was clear that their father was a man madly in love and Fawn not only opened her heart to him, but to his family as well. Soon, it was almost like she had always been a part of the Winston family. Now that their father had taken the initiative to move Fawn in, it looked like she was here to stay and Ellie and Harry wouldn't have it any other way.

"Well, for now," His sister was saying. "I'm glad Dad's keeping you under lock and key. At least until we know for sure you're no longer in danger."

"Are you kidding?!" Harry exclaimed. "I wish those assholes had the balls to show up now. I wouldn't hesitate in killing them myself."

"Harry!" Ellie chastised.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Elle, really? What the hell do you think is gonna happen once the Club catches up with Chipster?"

"Oh God," Ellie groaned quietly as she tried swiping at her tears before anyone noticed.

"You actually _crying_ over that douche bag?" Harry was incredulous.

"No!" Ellie turned a ferocious glare on her brother before turning back to Fawn. "You have to believe me, Fawn. Whatever they get, they deserve after what they did to you. I just can't help but feel responsible—"

Fawn grabbed her hand and squeezed gently. "I know you do, sweetheart, but you have to believe me when I say that you are no more to blame for what happened to me than Rocco is. Chip brought this on himself the moment our paths crossed in that parking lot in Stockton, so please stop doing this to yourself." She pulled Ellie in for a hug. "I'm here and I'm alive and there are more important things to occupy your mind than unnecessary guilt. What happened to me is not your fault and whatever happens to Chip isn't either. The whole situation is out of our hands. Now, it's up to your father and the Club to fix it however they see fit, so I'm not worrying it to death and neither should you."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Big Red." Opie smiled broadly as he walked into his bedroom, with Tig two steps behind him. Quickly reaching her side, Opie bent over to kiss her softly as her busted lip was still sporting stitches.

"Hey, baby." Despite the soreness, Fawn did her best to return the kiss, but her father wasn't having it.

"C'mon you two! I thought with that fat lip of yours I'd be spared having to watch the two of you swap spit." Her father said as he shoved his brother out of the way to kiss his daughter on her forehead before kissing Rocco on his snout as well. "How ya doing, Fawnzy? You settled in all right?"

"Yes, Dad, I'm fine. I'm as fine as I was the last _five_ times you called to check on me." Fawn replied petulantly. "You wanna bubble-wrap me just in case?"

"I thought that was the plan," Mary Winston teased as she walked in next carrying a large tray of food. Thanks to Fawn's influence and encouragement, Mary had lost a total of thirty pounds. With her gout currently under control, the older woman was getting around with greater ease, no longer depending on her cane. "I'm the only one around here allowed to lose any more weight and according to your old man, we need to fatten you up a little, so I fixed up a plate of food Neeta sent over." Mary set the tray over Fawn's lap and sat down on a chair next to the bed. "She's stopping by later for a visit, so you better put a hurtin' on that plate to show her your appreciation. I won't have her accuse me of falling down on the job."

Both Fawn and Rocco sat and eyed the mountain of food on her plate. "Are you serious? There's enough food here to feed everyone in this room." She exaggerated as she poked at the slivers of moist baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy.

"She also sent some peach cobbler for dessert." Mary advised.

"You realize my ass is going to spread out as wide as this bed if I eat all of this food." Fawn complained as she nudged Rocco aside as he was practically drooling on her plate.

"Then you better eat up, Fawnzy. My brother here's an ass man if there ever was one." Tig slapped Opie on the shoulder.

"Okay, you can stop talking now, Dad, please." Fawn shuddered at the thought of her father contemplating her ass.

"He's not wrong, babe." Opie retorted and as Fawn looked up at him with an arched eyebrow she knew he would not hesitate in force feeding her if she continued to resist.

"Okay, Redwood, when I can't fit my ass on the back of your bike, don't complain." She teased. "You all need to scram now because I am not making an absolute pig of myself in front of an audience."

The VP was about to shut her down when his prepay went off in his kutte. Pulling it out and recognizing the number, he stepped away from the bed and answered the call. Listening to the exited voice on the other end of the line, a feral grin spread across his face. Watching him intently, Fawn realized that some serious shit had just happened or was about to happen. Without saying good-bye, Opie snapped the burner closed and the light in his eye was now evident to everyone in the room.

"What's up, brother?" Tig asked anxiously.

"We need to head back to the Clubhouse," Opie replied quietly. It was taking a huge effort on his part to remain passive as all he wanted to do was shout the good news from the rooftop of his house.

 _Finally! There's a break in the fuckin' case_ , Opie thought but kept himself from sharing.

"I gotta go, baby," He leaned over again and kissed Fawn on the forehead. "I'll be back, but it won't be until much later tonight, so for my peace of mind, please do what you're told, a'ight? Don't give Ma any shit."

"I won't, as long as you promise that I'm really gonna see you tonight." She countered. Her voice was even and calm, but her eyes were wide with worry.

"Promise." Opie winked at her before dropping a kiss on the top of his daughter's head. "I've got two patches outside watching the house and Harry on the inside, so you'll be fine. Be good." He said as he grabbed Tig and they headed for the door.

Fawn watched as her confident old man took long strides out of the bedroom. Sitting in silence, she waited to hear Opie and Tig's bikes roar to life and then trail away as they headed to the lot. For Ellie and Mary's sake, Fawn was determined to remain secure in the knowledge that everything was now in her old man's very capable hands. A part of her, however, was still desperately worried about Opie and her father.

"Don't worry, Fawn," Harry said, correctly interpreting her thoughts. "Those two can handle their shit."

_I know. I just have to keep reminding myself of that._

* * *

With his hands tucked behind his head and his elbows pointing out, Chip was comfortably stretched out on the rumpled queen-size bed just staring at the ceiling, trying to decipher the exact moment his life had turned to shit.

Although his downward spiral had been months—many would argue years in the making—Chip figured he had hit an all-time low when his so-called friend had kicked his ass to the curb. Chip was never really one for planning too far ahead in the future, so he had been caught unprepared when Sam Boland not only kicked him out of his house, but refused to help him find a place to lay low for a while or even front him some cash until their next job. The reason, according to Sam, was that there would be no next job. _Ever_. _Again_. Although Sam had been adamant about cutting ties, Chip chose to believe that he was just momentarily pissed and would soon get over it.

Still sporting the bruises of a serious beat down, Chip was reduced to making do with whatever he could provide for himself until someone—his father, Sam, or any of his many friends who had seemingly turned their backs on him—came to their fucking senses and gave him a hand. Growing up in a wealthy family, Chip had just taken for granted that money would always be available. In his nearly nineteen years, it was just something that was never in short supply. Needless to say, it had been a rude awakening when his access to money all but came to a screeching halt once his father had kicked him out of the house. Unlike his bank account, Chip's tastes for the finer things in life had not waned and he had spent nearly every cent he had ever earned while in business with Sam almost as quickly as he earned it.

With his stash of cash dwindling, Chip had been reduced to sleeping in his truck. First, he would park deep in Woodbridge Forest thinking it was isolated enough to keep out of sight, but the crisp fall weather had brought out the seasonal hunters looking to shoot duck, geese, deer and elk. His enormous truck with expensive rims and his battered appearance had raised an eyebrow or two. Realizing he had piqued the curiosity of several hunting parties, Chip decided to move locations.

He relocated to what he thought had been an abandoned industrial park in Lodi, site of a corn mill and tortilla factory that had gone belly up in recent years. Not two hours into a heavy sleep, Chip had been lucky to make it out alive when he awoke to a beaner wearing a leather vest with skulls pointing a hand cannon at his left temple. The wetback with slicked back black hair and a bandana across his forehead wasn't in the mood to discuss shit and gave him ten seconds to get off the property before he started shooting holes into the truck. Needless to say, Chip had left in a hurry.

Not wanting to get picked up for vagrancy, Chip decided to throw himself at the mercy of his father, but never got the chance because the old fat bastard had refused to take his calls at home or work. Reduced to scraping the bottom of the barrel, Chip had no other choice but to go to quite possibly the last place on earth he would be welcomed to.

Fortunately for him, even though Sam had handed down the order to his crew of tweakers that Chip was on his own, money still talked. Digger, the head tweaker-in-charge of the crew of four Sam used to rob and terrorize the gated communities of Modesto, had no problem in turning a blind eye to Chip hanging around as long as he had the scratch to pay for protection. Living in the back room of an abandoned farmhouse that served as the base for a make-shift meth lab was not what the over-privileged and self-indulgent young man would have chosen for himself but, as they say, beggars can't be choosers.

Saying that the farmhouse had been built in the 1930s was a conservative estimate. Judging by the gas lamps still on the walls of the rooms with high-ceilings, it appeared that the house had been converted to electricity sometime in the 1960s. Not that the house currently had any electricity that wasn't provided by the generators used to run the lab. There was no running water either, which Chip didn't think was much of an issue for this rag-tag bunch of toothless freaks he was bunking down with. As a matter of fact, the farmhouse was one giant disgusting and putrid hell hole, smelling of rotten wood and the decayed corpses of animals that had found their way inside only to die. Needless to say, his first night in the farmhouse had been _bad_. So bad, in fact, that the next night Chip had been advised by one of the tweakers to stop his whining and go find himself a couple of hours of entertainment before he caved his fuckin' head in.

Needless to say, there had been no need to _advise_ Chip twice.

The farmhouse was on the outskirts of Pope and Chip was very familiar with the area. He and his friends had often gone slumming in this neck of the woods, so he easily made his way under cover of darkness to a seedy motel he knew doubled as a brothel. Chip wasn't too picky. He didn't care what the whores looked like as long as they were reasonably clean. He always got his money's worth from these girls and had enjoyed the ride. He had even paid a little extra to crash in one of the rooms for a night. Anything was better than returning to the farm, even though Chip had to admit that as far as hide-outs went, it was great because no one in their right mind would think of looking for him there.

Being able to stay off the grid for a while was a good thing because Chip had to remain in the area. Leaving NorCal was not an option, at least not yet. Chip still believed that his father would eventually cave in. He just needed to give the asshole enough time to calm down. Then he could hopefully talk his way into a large sum of cash and leave California for anywhere but here.

 _Maybe Las Vegas_ ,Chip thought dreamily. _O_ _r South Beach_.

Most importantly, Chip needed the money to get some sort of reconstructive surgery on his ear.

 _That damn bitch_ , he thought angrily for the umpteenth time as he touched the bandage that covered what remained of his ear.

He hoped to God that he'd be able to get his shit fixed. If not, he would have to resign himself to growing his hair long like some goddamned hippie. He was a good looking guy, though. If anyone could pull off the look, it was him. He'd make it stylish, give it a little class.

Suddenly, Chip's self-centered musings were interrupted. "Look, man. You gotta get your shit together and go." The faux redheaded whore, who had been washing up in the room's small bathroom, was now standing over him wearing nothing but a skimpy bra and panty set as she waved around the phone in her hand.

Fucking her had been as close as he would be able to get to fucking over the bitch at the center of all his problems. Sure, she had demanded extra money, but he had been pretty rough with her. He smiled to himself as he noted the dark bruising that now appeared around her neck, where he had held her down as he pounded the shit out of her.

"C'mon, you ain't busy here tonight." He threw another couple of twenties at her feet, which she pointedly ignored.

"Nuh-uh, man. You gots to get the fuck out." The woman replied candidly. "Don't make me get my boss in here 'cause you ain't gonna like that shit."

Chip recalled the large skinhead with the massive frame, whose body—decorated with a multitude of Neo-Nazi tattoos—was a temple of hate and who patrolled the rooms used by his stable of girls. Chip figured that messing with him would be bad for his health.

Pushing himself off of the bed, Chip quickly threw on his expensive clothes and, scooping his cash up off the floor, walked out of the room without another word. He was in such a hurry to get out that Chip didn't notice as the woman quickly typed a text message on her phone.

In order to remain inconspicuous, Chip had parked his truck at the far end of the motel's parking lot under a broken street lamp. Chip barely paid attention to his surroundings, the dark cargo van parked next to his ride going completely unnoticed. Jumping into his truck, Chip pulled out and headed toward the highway for a couple of exits before turning off and heading towards a very well-hidden dirt road that took him deep into the woods.

And not once did it dawn on him that he was being tracked.

* * *

Chip was fast asleep, tucked into a sleeping bag he had managed to convince Digger to sell him. It had cost him an exorbitant amount of his dwindling cash, but it was the best alternative to sleeping on the moldy and bug-infested mattress on the rusty bed frame occupying the room that had been designated as his.

It had taken him quite a long time to finally fall asleep too, so Chip was not happy that a stupid fucking dream had startled him awake. Still bleary-eyed from sleep, he was lying in the dark room when it finally dawned on him that he hadn't been dreaming after all. Suddenly wide awake, Chip's mind slowly started to register that what he had heard had not come from inside his own head. It had come from the outside and it had sounded like gunfire. Before he could convince himself that he was wrong, the unmistakable rat-tat-tat-tat of an automatic weapon started again, only this time it was part of a cacophony that included screams of fear and panic.

Hastily unzipping the sleeping bag, Chip scrambled onto unsteady legs and staggered towards a dirty window to look out into the darkness. He didn't make it as a sudden explosion had him ducking for cover as if he had just woken up in a hot zone in the Middle East.

"Shit! That must be the lab." Chip said to himself as he slowly lowered his arms he had used to shield his head.

Realizing that the sound of gun fire was getting closer to his part of the house, Chip stumbled back to his sleeping bag and started haphazardly throwing on his clothes. As the acrid smell of burning chemicals and metal hit his nostrils, he grabbed his duffle bag and headed for the exit.

Chip had no clue who was doing the shooting and he had no intention of sticking around to find out.

Before he could get to the door of his room, however, it was suddenly kicked open. Throwing himself against the wall in terror, the boy whimpered as he made out several hulking figures in spite of the darkness making their way into the room. The one holding a powerful flashlight towered over him like a creature from his childhood nightmares before turning the light on him.

"Oh God, please! Please don't kill me!" Chip pleaded. "I don't know shit!" He tried to block the dazzling light that was blinding him as if he were looking straight into the sun.

The only response coming from the dark giant standing before him was a rumble of laughter. The sound was so cold and deadly, without a shred of mirth, that it sent chills down Chip's spine. The man suddenly turned his flashlight away from Chip, giving the young man a moment to squeeze his eyes closed in order to refocus his vision. When he opened his eyes again, the light was now illuminating the man standing before him. He was tall and even with just the light from a flashlight Chip could tell that the man's bulk was comprised mostly of muscle. He was huge, with wild shoulder length hair and cold dark green eyes.

Chip blinked once. Then twice. As his panicked gaze traveled up and over the man, he choked back a sob.

"I—I," Chip stuttered. "I know your fa—face."

"You should, after the beating I gave you for what you almost did to my little girl." Opie Winston leveled a frightening smile at the young man as Chip finally connected the face to a name.

_Ellie Winston!_

"I haven't seen her in months!" Chip exclaimed. "I swear! Please, you have to believe me!"

"That maybe true, but I really don't give a shit." Opie replied nonchalantly. "All I know is that I warned you to stay out of Charming and you violated that edict by beating and trying to rape my old lady. And in case you don't remember," He said as he reached for a flinching Chip and ripped the bandaging off his injured ear. "She's the one that did _this_ to you."

A tall, curly haired man with crazy eyes stepped around the pissed off hulk of a man. "He told ya if he ever saw you again you were gonna wish he hadn't," Tig started and, using the butt of his gun, knocked Chip out. "Too bad you didn't listen, asshole."

* * *

_Please God, kill me. I can't take any more._

Charles Preston Jr. whimpered as the weight of his body pulled down on him. With the old, frayed and rough rope tied tight around his bleeding wrists, he was secured between two posts, his arms extended high over his head and spread far apart. His legs, on the other hand, were bound together and bent at a certain angle that forced his full weight onto the balls of his bare feet, which were burning in excruciating pain.

Chip didn't have any clue as to where he was. He had been too busy pleading for his life when he woke up hog-tied in the back of a cargo van being driven at a leisurely pace down some dark road. All his begging and negotiating had been in vain, however, as every man that surrounded him—he stopped counting at five because he couldn't turn his head far enough to see the others—just sat and stared at him. His heart-wrenching pleas had fallen on deaf ears and all he could do now was cry. He cried out of the sheer agony inflicted on his body and he cried as it became increasing clear to Chip that he wouldn't get to live long enough to see his 19th birthday.

Every blow he endured seemed to increase in intensity and frequency. His captors—large rough-looking men with cold, rage-filled eyes—took turns in punishing him with their fists. Every so often he would get hit at just the right angle and his entire world would go black, rendering him unconscious. But instead of letting him fall into a peaceful oblivion, someone would splash him with rancid-smelling water, bringing him to once again and picking up his punishment where they had left off.

This continued for what seemed like hours and the only voice to be heard was Chip's as he alternated between praying for a quick death, begging for his release, and hurling threats at his tormentors. Not one of them spoke, not even the giant who had to be pulled away from him more than once as he came close to literally beating him to death.

Like now.

Chip was sure the last set of torrential blows rained down on him had not only knocked several of his teeth out, but had swollen one of his eyes shut. The one remaining good eye was near useless as blood from the open wound on his forehead ran freely down that side of his face.

"Hey, hey, brother." Chip heard through ringing ears the caution in the voice of the man he could barely see. Suddenly, a tall blond man came into view as he placed a gloved hand on the giant brute's shoulder. "We need him alive."

Chip let his head hang forward as tears of joy fell onto his bloody torso. _They need me alive_ , he rejoiced. _They're not going to kill me_.

Opie looked from Jax to Chip and smirked, knowing that Chip had slumped over with relief. That relief would be short-lived, however, once Chip realized that they would keep him alive _only_ until he was done telling them what they needed to know. But that wouldn't happen for a while yet, so Opie backed away, letting the SAMCRO Prez take the lead, and patiently waited for the moment he could snatch all hope away from Chip Preston for the last time.

"Hey, dumbass!" Jax slapped Chip's face until he pulled his head back up. Pulling a blue bandana from his back pocket, Jax wiped the blood from Chip's face so that he could see him clearer. "You're gonna tell us everything you know about your friend Sam Boland and his father. Whatever you don't know, you're gonna tell us who does, got it?"

Chip nodded, his good eye blinking rapidly. "So you're not gonna kill me?"

Staring straight at the young man, Jax pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Nope."

Nudging his head towards Opie, Chip continued. "I think he wants to kill me though."

Jax let out a long stream of blue smoke. "Oh, I _know_ he wants to kill ya, but have I laid a hand on ya?"

"No." Chip replied in a small voice.

"That's 'cause I'm in charge, not him." Jax explained. "Now start talking before I change my mind."

"Aren't you going to let me down first?" Chip almost begged.

"Do I look like a fuckin' idiot?!" Jax asked incredulously as Chip started shaking his head violently. "Then don't treat me like one, a'ight? I get you all nice and comfortable and then you decide to clam up on me, it's just gonna make this night a lot longer for all of us. And I don't know about you, but I've got a beautiful old lady waiting for me back home, so talk first, _then_ we cut you loose."

Chip swallowed a mouthful of blood and saliva. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

Jax smiled. "Good boy." Turning around, he nudged his head at Juice, who stepped forward with a file of information in his hands.

Opie, Tig, Happy, Bobby, Chibs, and Tiki stood to the side and watched as Juice started his interrogation with Jax listening intently. Every once in a while, Jax would interrupt to ask a question and Chip would obligingly continue feeding him the information the Club needed. With Juice finally determining that they had all the information they could possibly get out of Chip, the interrogation came to an end.

"You did good." Jax said to the bloody and battered young man, who flashed him a smile filled with gaping holes. Shaking his head, Jax turned away. "Get the line in."

Stepping forward, Chibs made quick work of running an I.V. into Chip, not an easy task with his arms strung up overhead, as Happy laid his tools of the trade on a wooden table.

"W-wait! Wait!" Chip stammered nervously. "What are you doing? What's in that I.V.? What's it for?"

"Well, if ya must know, laddie," Chibs started. "Da saline bag's to hydrate ya and da meds are to keep ya alert and coherent."

"Because it's no fun if you're not awake during everything that's gonna happen to you before you die." Happy retorted with a truly horrifying smile.

"What?!" Chip yelled. "But you said you weren't gonna kill me! Not if I told you everything I knew!" He directed at Jax.

"You know what?" Jax rubbed the hair on his jaw line before throwing his hand up and shrugging. "I lied."

Tiki and Juice went to work and stripped Chip of every stitch of clothing. Now completely naked, his body was a testament to the violent assault he had endured over the course of the evening. Chip felt an uneasy calm fall over him as he realized that he wasn't making it out alive after all. The I.V. was only to prolong his torture and death.

_How much worse could it possibly get?_

Unfortunately, Chip was about to find out.

Walking over to Tig, Happy offered him one of his favorite tools, a pincer. "You want to start off with these, bro? It's really great on fingers."

"Nah, I got this," Tig said evenly and Happy took a step back, but not before clapping him on the shoulder.

Stalking towards the boy, the SAA stood in front of him. Chip could barely see him through the eye that was stinging from a mixture of blood, sweat and tears. His face a blank mask, the man was the embodiment of pure evil. Then he spoke.

"You know what gets me? What's really twisting my gut right now?" Tig looked at Chip with hard, blue eyes. "Hours of getting the shit beat out of you, the threat of an ugly, painful death looming over your fuckin' stupid head as you begged for your rotten life, crying and cursing, and not _once_ did you ever say you were sorry for what you did to my kid."

Chip's good eye widened. "But I am! I swear!" He implored. "Please, I swear. I'll disappear. You'll never hear from me again."

Tig pursed his lips as if contemplating what Chip had just offered. "Nah! I'd rather kill ya." He stated with a devilish smile. "And for the record, you still haven't apologized."

Tig walked over to the table bearing Happy's varied instruments of torture. "I used to be a Marine." He said apropos to nothing as he let his fingers dance over the different tools made from a variety of metals and materials. "I learned first hand to do things you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. My name was Alex then. I don't really use it any more. I was christened with a new name during my first T.O.D." Looking at Chip again, he smirked. "That means _Tour of Duty_ for you privileged fucks who've never had to work for anything a day in your sorry lives. Anyway, I was part of a rifle platoon and we used to do a lot of patrolling in hostile areas. We'd come across enemy combatants so often that we'd wander around like chickens with no heads if a day went by without somebody shooting at us. It was just a part of our daily routine. We'd open fire and blow them up to shit. Easy peasy. It was what we did. We scouted and cleared paths for our brother-in-arms to travel through in relative safety. I saw a lot of death in those days, but who gave a shit? They were the enemy, right? Anyway, we always kept one alive. Like you, they would always end up giving our Lieutenant whatever information we needed at the time. I was always good with my fists, so most of the time I was tasked with getting the necessary Intel. One day, we were holed up in an industrial area that had been bombed to hell and we needed to get the fuck out, but we didn't know jack shit about the area. IEDs, snipers and shit like that were always a possibility, so we needed Intel and bad. Only problem, the one guy we managed to capture wasn't talking, no matter how hard I pounded him with my fists, so I rooted around in the rubble, looking for something, anything I could use."

As Opie and his brothers listened, they realized that were learning a facet about their brother that they had never known before, something about him that made him the man he was today.

"So I'm digging around and digging around and nothing. I'm about to give up when I suddenly come across a welding torch, almost like someone had just laid it there for me to find. It used inert gas for fuel—Tungsten Inert Gas, TIG for short." Turning to his brothers, Tig smiled. "So now you know, boys. Anyway, long story short, I lit it up and I used it on the bastard." Turning back to Chip, Tig picked up the blowtorch Hap had decided to bring along at the last minute. "You know, there's something almost magical about using this kind of a tool on a man. Watching as first the skin starts to tan just a little, before it starts to turn dark brown and then black and crispy, the flesh sizzling right down to the fuckin' bone. After about a minute, ninety seconds tops, that shithead was singing like a canary, and because he did, my platoon got out of there alive."

Tig raised the blowtorch he held in his hand and had no little satisfaction as Chip's bowels loosened. Falling onto the cement ground of the gun warehouse now covered with a plastic tarp, the loud splat was barely heard over the young man's sobs and pleas for mercy.

"Aw, shit!" Bobby moaned, covering his nose with a bandana as the vile stench of excrement hit his nostrils. "What's he been eating? That smells horrible."

"I think it's gonna smell a helluva lot worse in a minute, Pop." Tiki murmured coldly as he looked at the slobbering mess begging for his life.

"Please, please," Chip begged, his face covered in blood, snot and tears. "Mercy, show mercy, please."

"Like you showed my kid when you nearly caved her head in, asshole?" Tig said softly, his brothers having to strain to hear him. "Not on my fuckin' watch. Now, where should I start first?"

Slowly walking around the boy in a full circle—and totally unmoved by his screams—Tig was finally in front of him again. "Hey, I found just the spot. When you think about it, it makes perfect fuckin' sense too considering it's been used to torture young girls who otherwise trusted you."

Lifting the blowtorch so that it was in front of him, Tig threw on some safety glasses before flipping the switch that ignited it. He stared at the blue-white flame for a long time, as if mesmerized. Finally, with a steady hand and careful aim, Tig Trager started roasting Chip Preston's cock like a hot dog on a stick.

Tig closed his eyes and smiled.

The young man's screams of excruciating pain and overwhelming terror were like music to his ears.

* * *

Pulling into his driveway with a minimum amount of noise, Opie Winston cut the engine on his bike. Tiredly removing his helmet, he placed it on the handle bars. For a moment, all the biker could bring himself to do was just sit there in quiet contemplation of the evening's events.

While a part of him felt a deep sense of satisfaction with how shit had gone down, another more vocal part of him was uneasy. Getting the news earlier in the day that a man fitting Chip's description had been spotted at one of the Nords brothels in Pope had initially invigorated the VP. He had been more than ready and willing to mete out retribution for what had been done to his old lady.

But over the course of the evening, it had come to light that handing out punishment for Chip's participation was only the tip of the iceberg. As they had learned from the young man, there would still be plenty of hurt left to go around. Opie—with Tig's full support and encouragement—wanted each and every person who had played a part to suffer as much, if not more, than Fawn had.

After Chip was dead, SAMCRO made quick work of disposing of the body. Later, they made their way to the Clubhouse to discuss what targets to hit and when. Or so Opie had thought. Instead, Jax had dropped a bombshell of a plan that was miles away from how they normally dealt with threats to them and theirs, explaining that there was a larger threat on the horizon that could potentially alter their existence as they knew it.

Still focused on his need for blood vengeance, Opie had resisted even contemplating the plan as suggested by Jax, which Clay was in full support of. If put to a vote right away, however, Opie knew that his brothers would agree with him. SAMCRO was not in the habit of outsourcing their beefs. Every threat was always dealt with in-house and head-on. This was new and risky territory Jax was asking them to tread and not everyone was feeling it. After nearly two hours of active debating in the form of screaming matches, Jax threw down the gavel and called for a vote.

Even though his own hand had been raised high in the air, Opie was still too stumped to figure out just how his brother and best friend had managed to convince everyone of the soundness of his plan. Jax had succeeded in swinging a unanimous vote and now it would be up to him and Opie to lay out the ground work to make that shit happen.

A little too overwhelmed by the events of the last ten hours or so, Opie pushed all extraneous thoughts aside and wearily made his way into his home. The house was dark and quiet with everyone seemingly down for the night, including Rocco. As he silently made his way to the bedroom, however, the VP found that he was dead wrong as he walked in to find his old lady wide awake.

Propped up against several pillows with a remote in hand, Fawn had spent the entirety of her evening glued to the TV watching a marathon of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. She had been in the midst of vocalizing her complete agreement with NeNe as the diva gave her hairstylist hell for jacking up her hair on the eve of a big charity event when Fawn heard the sound of her old man's bike pulling in. Turning off the TV in the middle of NeNe's lengthy, yet quite amusing rant, she waited for Opie. And waited. After nearly ten minutes, Fawn was about to go looking for him when she finally heard him making his way down the hall.

Picking up her cell phone, Fawn noted the time. It was a little past two o'clock in the morning. The feeling that something serious—and more than likely connected to her situation—had spurred Opie and Tig to haul ass out of the house earlier had been nagging at her all night. Seeing Opie's furrowed brow and long face as he entered the room only served to confirm that the nagging feeling had been right.

"Hey," She greeted him with a warm smile as he walked in.

"Hi, babe."

"I was getting worried, thinking you weren't going to keep your promise to me, Redwood."

"Never, honey. Shit just took a little longer than we expected, is all." Opie sounded tired and looked even worse.

As he made his way to sit down beside her, he watched his old lady wrinkle her nose up as she covered it with her good hand. "Oh my God, Ope. What the fuck is that smell?" She eyed him warily.

Sniffing himself, Opie exclaimed, "Phew, damn!" She was right. He reeked of death. "I guess I got into some shit." He admitted.

"Are you sure you didn't roll around in it too?" Fawn wanted to press him for more, but she couldn't take the stench any longer. It was nauseating. "Look, baby, go take a shower," She suggested. "A really, _really_ long shower, and then we'll talk, okay?"

Opie smiled. "Is that your discreet way of telling me I stink?"

"I didn't think I was being all that discreet, but yeah, babe." Fawn said with a teasing glint in her eye. "As much as I need to cuddle up with you in this bed, it ain't happening tonight unless you clean up." She said sheepishly. "And you definitely won't be getting any play until you do."

Opie raised an eyebrow. "You can't handle that kind of action. Your ribs are still sore."

Fawn cocked her head and flashed him a devilish grin. "You'd be surprised by what I can handle, Redwood. Now get!"

Getting off the bed, Opie removed his kutte and dropped it on the chair by the dresser and headed towards the bathroom. He made quick work of stripping out of his clothes before walking into the bathroom and stepping into the shower. The water was blessedly hot and he took his old lady's advice and scrubbed heartily, using his favorite soap to get the smell of blood, shit, vomit, and burnt flesh off his skin and out of his hair. Finally shutting the water off, Opie grabbed a large towel and rubbed it through his hair before completely drying off. Throwing on a clean pair of boxers, he re-entered their bedroom.

Although he wished she had not gotten out of bed, Opie saw that his old lady had made good use of his time in the shower. Fawn had hung up his kutte on the back of the chair and tidied up by picking up his discarded clothes and dumping them in the laundry room before grabbing him a beer from the kitchen. Now back in their bed, she held the bottle out for him to take, and nudged her head at the empty spot next to her. "You better claim it before Rocco wakes up and abandons Ellie. You know how much he likes to sleep with me."

Climbing into the bed and taking the beer from her, he took a healthy gulp before answering. "Sometimes I think you love that mutt more than you love me."

"Some times I do," Fawn agreed with a cheeky smile. "Especially since Rocco never keeps shit from me. _You do_ , and that needs to change, Ope." She said pointedly.

Opie look at her for a long time, reminding himself that the beautiful redhead who sat up and waited for him all night wasn't Donna. "You realize what you're asking me for, right?" He asked in a near whisper.

Fawn nodded. "Jolene calls it 'full disclosure'," She replied quietly. "To me, its part and parcel of being a good old lady, comforting you and letting you unburden yourself with me."

"And dealing with all the shit that comes with it," Opie added cautiously. "A lot of it not at all pretty."

"I know," Fawn agreed. "But I'd rather know it's coming than not, don't you? Truth is, I'm prepared to deal with whatever comes our way, as long as we deal with it together. I don't want any walls or barriers affecting our intimacy."

Opie smirked as he eyed her generous cleavage barely contained by the low-cut tank top she wore with her pajama bottoms. "I don't see that happening, babe."

"That's not what I meant," Fawn rolled her eyes playfully. "We're in this together and for the long haul, Redwood. In order for that to happen, our shared intimacy has to be more than just what happens in this room, on this bed. And it works both ways, you know. I'm sharing my life with you and that includes all of my burdens as well. And rumor has it I can be quite a handful."

"Hate to be the one to break it to ya, Big Red," Opie laughed. "But it ain't a rumor."

Fawn pouted prettily. "But you love me anyway, right?"

Placing his beer bottle on the nightstand, Opie leaned into Fawn and gently cupped her face. "More than you'll ever know." He whispered before kissing her mouth softly. "That's why I need you to be absolutely sure that full disclosure is what you want, babe. Once the Genie's out of the bottle—"

"There's no putting it back," Fawn nodded. "I know and I'm sure. I love you, Ope and I want to be everything you need me to be."

"You already are," Opie replied as he tenderly kissed her forehead. "But I'll do anything if it makes you happy, Fawn."

Fawn smiled. "So, full disclosure is now on the table?" She asked and Opie nodded. "Good. You can start by telling me what had you running out of here like a bat out of hell this afternoon, only to come back smelling like, like—" Fawn paused, trying to think of the right word.

"Like death?" Opie offered. The way he said the word gave Fawn pause, but she nodded, urging him to continue. "Maybe because tonight I helped beat, torture and burn a man to death." He admitted quietly and felt his heart tighten in his chest as her eyes grew wide.

 _Shit_! Fawn thought.

 _What_? _Like you didn't already know_ , inner-Fawn chastised acidly. _Say something, stupid. You can't really blame the man for telling you the truth after you asked for it_.

"Chip?" Fawn asked quietly. Opie nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her reaction. "Good."

Opie raised an eyebrow. "Wow, that wasn't at all what I was expecting."

"What? Did you think I would shed some tears for the bastard?" Fawn started, and then stopped, afraid that her next words would make her sound like a hateful and spiteful person. "I'm glad he's dead." She almost whispered. "God knows I thought I would be while he was beating me. And after what he tried to do to Ellie and what he did to those other young girls, I can't say I'll ever have any regrets. He had a choice to make in this world and he chose to be a monster. He didn't get any more than he deserved." Fawn said sincerely. "My Dad's okay?"

Opie hesitated. Full disclosure didn't mean he had to burden her with every dirty detail, like the near-orgasmic joy Tig had taken in dispatching her tormentor. "He's fine. When I left him he was on his way to Momma T's. She'll take good care of him."

"Yeah, I'm sure she will." Fawn said before they both fell silent. Reaching for his hand, she brought it to her lips and tenderly kissed his fingers. "Are you okay, baby?"

Opie ran his free hand through his damp hair. "I don't know how to answer that." He replied candidly. "He wasn't the first man I've killed, but it never gets easy."

"That's because you're a good man, Ope."

"I just told you I killed someone and that it wasn't the first time. You really believe I'm a good man?" Opie asked warily, praying that even if she didn't that she could convince him that she did.

Fawn shook her head. "I don't believe, baby, I _know_. I know that _what_ you do for a living doesn't change _who_ you are." She explained. "You're an outlaw, but you're also a wonderful man, father, brother, lover, friend. Everything you've done, every step you've taken has made you the man you are, and I love that man."

Opie gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "Thank you, babe."

"What for?"

"For being exactly what I need."

Fawn laid her head on his shoulder and smiled up at her old man, her good hand caressing his naked torso. After about a minute, she asked, "So does this mean everything's over?"

"Not quite. We got a lot of Intel tonight, but all that means is that there's now a lot of shit left to take care of."

"Like what?" Fawn asked, her curiosity piqued. With everything happening so fast while she had been in the hospital, Opie hadn't had the chance to fill her in on the details regarding the Boland-Howard connection.

"It's a long story." Opie warned.

"I'm not going anywhere." Fawn shrugged her shoulder. "You?"

Opie shook his head. "I'm right where I want to be."

"Okay," Fawn sat up and gingerly turned to face Opie. "So what's going on?" For the next quarter of an hour, she sat quietly and listened as her old man filled her in on what she knew was explosive information and what the Club planned to do with it. "Shit, Ope. That's pretty bold on Jax's part." She commented, more than just a little concerned. "What if it backfires? The blowback has the potential of bringing down the entire Club."

Opie moved quickly to settle his old lady's fears, despite his own justifiable misgivings. "I know, but I trust Jax and his judgment. He's given this whole situation a lot of thought and he's gotten us out of some tight spots before. I have no reason to believe that we can't pull this off as well."

"I don't know if there's anything I can do, but if I can, I won't hesitate." Fawn offered. "You know I got your back, right, Ope?"

"I know it, sweetheart." Pressing his lips gently to hers, Opie lost himself in his old lady as she kissed him back fervently, her hand balled up in his hair. With her tight, budded nipples pressed against his chest, Opie felt that familiar and oh-so-good tightening below the waist and quickly pulled his lips away from hers. "Whoa, Big Red. You are way too good at that shit. We need to stop before my _other_ head takes over."

Stealing a glance at the tent he had just pitched in his boxers, Fawn giggled like a teenager. "That's quite impressive, Redwood."

Opie groaned as he felt her warm hand grip him over his underwear. About to protest again, he had a quick change of heart as Fawn started stroking his length slowly and rhythmically. "Okay. As long as you're offering, babe, I'll take a hand job." Opie smirked as his head fell back against the headboard, his eyes closed.

"I wasn't offering." Fawn suddenly let go of his dick. Opie's head snapped up and his eyes flew open in time to see her pulling her tank top off and over her head. "See, I had Mary bind me up good and tight before she went to bed," She said, referring to the ACE bandage wrapped around her slim mid-section, her beautiful and perky tits standing at attention. "Just as long as you don't expect the usual acrobatics, I think I can handle a ride or two."

Opie licked his suddenly dry lips as he ran a hand over his beard. "You realize your father will kill me if you end up in the hospital again."

Fawn cocked her head as if thinking. "Hmmm, that didn't sound like a 'no'."

"That's 'cause it wasn't." Opie retorted quickly as they both laughed.

Taking both her hands in his, Opie gently maneuvered his old lady until she was straddling him, her breasts almost at face level. Cupping one of the smooth, supple orbs, Opie flicked his tongue over the pale pink nipple before taking it into his mouth. As he sucked on it gently, Fawn moaned and slowly bucked her hips against his erection.

"You know you can stop me, babe." Opie offered as he looked up into her half-hooded eyes. "You did just get out of the hospital."

"I know," Fawn ran her hands through his hair. "But I don't want to. I need to be with you this way, baby." She whispered before enveloping his mouth with hers.

It took him a minute, but gently and slowly Opie moved until he could softly lay Fawn on her back. Caressing his handsome face as they looked into each other's eyes, Fawn recalled learning from Ellie and Harry just how devastated Opie had been at the thought of losing her.

Now, in light of what he had done to Chip Preston as a result, Fawn knew that Opie needed to be with her like this too.

* * *

"Well, Digger," Roosevelt drawled as he stared down at the charred remains of what the Medical Examiner assured him was a body. "Looks like you won't be cooking meth again any time soon."

The Sheriff looked up at the slate gray sky and zipped up his bomber jacket to protect himself from the early morning chill. Dawn had just broken over the ruins of the burnt out farmhouse located deep in a densely wooded forest on the outskirts of Pope. The sun was barely breaking through the cloud coverage and a misty rain had started to fall. The last place Eli wanted to be at the ass crack of dawn on a cold, wet morning was rummaging through the rubble of what was left of some meth lab in the middle of nowhere. Nowadays, exploding crank labs were going for a dime a dozen in NorCal. It didn't matter how hard the Sheriffs Department worked to close these illicit drug manufacturers down. For every lab shutdown by law enforcement—or as in this case, by carelessness and just plain stupidity—two more would pop up to take its place.

Chasing down tweakers would always keep his department busy on a slow day, but with the recent rash of vandalism targeting certain businesses in Charming, including his wife's, Eli presently had plenty to keep him busy closer to home. At the moment, he was focusing his energy on investigating the attack on Fawn Trager, which had nearly killed the young woman, and its connection to the break-ins. Although the destruction by fire of an abandoned farmhouse was more the local Fire Marshall's jurisdiction, the reported blast had been seen for miles and the fire had burned with an intensity that indicated it had been fueled by chemicals. Unfortunately, the Marshall's discovery that those chemicals were the same ones used in the production of crystal meth made it a crime scene that fell under Lieutenant Roosevelt's jurisdiction.

In spite of the miserable weather, Eli and his deputies had made a thorough survey of the burnt out ruins. Along the way, Roosevelt had spotted a large amount of shell casings scattered around the property. Whatever had gone down here the night before, the Sheriff was sure it had been something more than just a bunch of stupid tweakers carelessly allowing their business to be blown to hell and beyond.

"Pretty nasty mess, huh, L.T.?" Deputy Sheriff Mitchell Caine said as he strolled over to his boss.

"Yeah." Roosevelt replied just as his phone went off. Checking the caller i.d., he noted a number he didn't recognize and let the call go to voice-mail in order to talk with his deputy. "How many more bodies has the M.E. pulled out?"

"Three more." Mitchell replied, pulling his campaign hat lower on his brow to keep the annoying mist from hitting his face. "M.E. says it'll probably be next to impossible to i.d. them, but I figure that at least with this one identified," He nodded indicating the body on the ground. "We can check his rap sheet for known associates and try to identify the other crispy critters that way."

"That's a good place to start." Roosevelt stooped down to pick up one of the shell casings from the muddy ground. " _This_ has me a little concerned, though. I've seen enough of these scattered about to fight a war."

"Yeah, a drug war." Mitchell suggested. "Maybe these assholes were stepping on somebody else's trade and got ambushed for their trouble."

"Who, a cartel?" Roosevelt asked, not totally convinced. "Because no tweaker gang I've ever come across around here has this kind of fire power. This is ammo for high-powered automatics. I won't rule it out, but you and the others keep digging, see what else turns up that can explain what the hell happened here last night." He ordered as he pulled out his phone to see that his missed call had left a voice-mail. Listening to the brief message, Deputy Caine's brow furrowed as he contemplated the look of surprise on Eli's face. "Problem, L.T.?"

Shoving his phone back into his jacket, Roosevelt slowly shook his head before turning to head towards his cruiser. "I'm not sure what it is."


	37. Main Street Showdown

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Sitting back in a salon chair, Abel stretched his long legs out before him in order to prop his sneakered feet on the edge of the work station. Harry, his best friend and SAMCRO Prospect, when not distracted was busy working on getting the marble floor to a mirror shine. The two young men were the only ones hanging out in the back as Tina was upstairs with the two new hires she was training. Rat-Boy and V-Lin were working to organize the day spa's small stock room and Lexie was upfront training Marcy, the salon's receptionist, on the new booking system. As a result, without Fawn around, the salon was unusually quiet.

With the final repairs done, _Take Five_ was back to pre-break in condition and with Juice as their leader, a small army of Prospects made sure that the salon was always protected and had kept it vandal-free for the past couple of weeks. Even though Fawn was improving slowly, Tina and Lexie were pushing ahead with the opening scheduled for the end of the following week and had taken on the task of getting everything ready. As a result, Abel had volunteered much of his free time afterschool to serve as an extra pair of hands.

Abel shook his head and smirked. Harry had just stopped detailing the work out regimen he was lobbying to get Abel on in mid-sentence to eye the tantalizing backside of one of the newest editions to the _Take Five_ staff. Cassie, the petite and perky young blond with an impossibly tiny waist and seriously tight ass, was bouncing her way towards the stairs leading to her manicure station on the second floor.

"Bro, instead of stopping to eye-fuck her _every_ time she walks by," Abel snarked. "Why don't you just ask her out already?"

Waiting until the perfectly tanned and smooth legs of the young woman in question had disappeared up the stairs, Harry turned to Abel and scoffed. "Dude, seriously, I've never been the one to make the first move."

"Bullshit!" Abel laughed. "I see you _trying_ to make a move on Lexie, Mary Ellen, Joanie, and _Fawn_ all the time."

"Whoa! For the record," Harry wagged his finger at Abel. "I haven't hit on Fawn since she and Pop hooked up. Besides, you have to deal with Cougars a little different, bro. They've been around and can smell the bullshit even before you open your mouth. Girls like Cassie, though, love chasing after bad boys. Maybe she just hasn't noticed me yet." He suggested.

Abel rolled his eyes. "That's a big maybe. You're not exactly _unnoticeable_ , you know."

"Maybe she doesn't wanna notice you. Ever think of that?" Rat-Boy snickered as he walked by with a box of supplies for the storage room upstairs.

"No, I ain't never thought of that!" Harry blustered indignantly. A lowly Prospect he might be, but Harry Winston had no problem getting laid.

"You might wanna start 'cause I already beat you to that shit." Rat-Boy smirked. "Cassie and me, we're going out tomorrow night." The Prospect's dark brown eyes were gleaming with pride as Abel Teller hooted with laughter.

"Yeah, right. How much begging did you have to do?" Harry replied irritably. Crossing his arms over a massive chest, he eyed his fellow Prospect with suspicious cobalt blue eyes.

"None. _She asked me out_." Rat-Boy retorted grinning. "Face it, bro, you can't win 'em all. Maybe giant blond pretty boys built like brick walls aren't her thing. _Maybe_ she likes 'em tall, dark and super slender." He laughed as he continued to make his way across the room.

Harry flipped him off as Rat-Boy cackled his way up the stairs. "More like manorexic, if you ask me!"

"It's her loss, bro." Abel waved it away, in full support of his brother. "Once Cassie realizes what she hooked up with, she's gonna want out fast."

"Hey, I ain't worried about it. There's always more where that comes from." Harry huffed a little as he turned his attention back to polishing the marble floor with the cloth mop.

Abel swiped a hand under his nose to disguise the fact that he wanted to crack up at the disgruntled look on the young man's face. As much as Harry did have something of an ego, Abel couldn't really blame him as he came about it honestly. He was fit, good-looking and patch or no patch, Harry had a way with women—Club women and townies alike—not seen since Abel's own old man settled down, according to his Uncle Bobby. His best friend wasn't used to losing out, especially to guys like Rat-Boy, who at only 5'11 weighed about 135 pounds soaking wet.

Aside from giving Abel the chance to witness the humbling of Dirty Harry Winston first hand, if anything good could possibly come from the wanton destruction of the salon it was that it also gave Abel the opportunity to spend time with his grandmother. With Tina spending whatever time she had away from the salon looking after Fawn, this would probably be the most time they would get to spend together before the grand opening, especially since she was now sharing much of her personal time with Tig Trager.

Abel wasn't sure what to make of his grandmother's relationship with his father's Sergeant-at- Arms. Where Tina was elegant and sophisticated, Tig was rough and brash and had a somewhat sketchy reputation when it came to the fairer sex. The Club women either loved him or loathed him and went out of their way to stay out of his. While not quite fourteen, Abel wasn't naïve and knew that whatever had drawn them together probably included sex, lots of it and—if Harry was to be believed—some pretty freaky shit on Tig's part, too.

In spite of the fact that Tig was a highly-respected member of SAMCRO, Abel questioned Tina's wisdom in getting involved with the SAA. While his old man refused to express an interest in his brother's private life, his mother had admitted to wondering the same thing. However, Jolene had stopped herself short of expressing any concern, declaring that Tina was a grown woman and quite capable of taking care of herself. While Abel had to accept that as fact, he was still a Teller-Morrow and family always came first. Without really consulting anyone, Abel had anointed himself his grandmother's champion. After all, Tina was now SAMCRO and SAMCRO women were to always be respected.

"Hey, wake up, shithead!" Harry said rather loudly, startling Abel from his thoughts as he casually lounged in the chair. "I could use your help, you know."

Abel rolled his eyes. "Hey, I finished polishing my half of the salon floor, bro. I'm just waiting on you to go get something to eat. It's your treat this time, remember?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond to the effect that he would be treating Abel to his foot up his ass if he didn't get up and help him out when a delicate ringing signaled that someone was at the locked front entrance of the salon. Tossing his cloth mop at Abel, the Prospect bopped between several stations before coming around from behind the partition separating the reception area from the rest of the first floor. Taking his duties regarding security seriously, and despite the fact that Marcy and Lexie were sitting at reception, Harry wasn't going to allow either of them to open the door to anyone he didn't recognize.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he eyed the woman standing impatiently outside. "Shit!" Harry muttered under his breath as he examined Colleen Trager. "Whose fuckin' chain is she lookin' to yank today?"

* * *

 _What a truly distasteful woman_ , Tina marveled to herself as she eyed the cold and silent woman in front of her.

Tina found it unfathomable that the cold fish that was Colleen Trager was also the same woman responsible for raising Fawn. Although Fawn had inspired many "What the fuck?!" moments herself over the years that Tina had known her, she had never known anyone sweeter, more genuine and with a bigger heart than the young woman, with the exception of her late husband Frank. Tina knew that, of all people, she had no right to judge another woman as a maternal failure—not after all the pain she had caused Jolene in the past—but there was an emotional disconnect that was painfully obvious whenever Colleen came into contact with her daughter. Although Fawn tried to downplay her mother's standoffish behavior as a by-product of being thrust into unfamiliar territory, Tina could see how deeply wounded Fawn was by Colleen's lack of affection.

Had Tina known what Lexie had been up to, she never would have answered the in-house phone call summoning her downstairs. Lexie had claimed that she was running behind on several urgent errands and needed Tina to take care of their unexpected visitor. Thinking press-shy Lexie wanted her to speak to another reporter from a local newspaper, Tina suggested that her two trainees take a break as she excused herself to head downstairs. Stepping around the partition, Tina quickly realized that she had been summarily thrown under the bus as her eyes quickly met the sheepish ones of her partner, before turning to eye the primly-dressed woman in front of her.

Colleen was wearing another of her boring pant suits, this time in an unflattering taupe with a light blue collared blouse open at the neck. It wouldn't be a completely horrible ensemble, Tina decided, had the woman spiced it up with some color, like a multi-colored scarf draped around the shoulders, or maybe some sparkly costume jewelry that accentuated her beautiful green eyes and vibrant red hair. The right amount of cosmetics to enhance her best features, of which Colleen had plenty, wouldn't have hurt either. However, it seemed as if the woman had taken a vow to look as frumpy and plain as possible for the rest of her days.

 _Damn Tig! What did you DO to this woman_ , Tina thought with a bit of humor. After all, she was fully aware of the fact that her dear sweet biker was a freak with more than just a few screws loose and a shit load of issues.

In contrast, Tina always made the effort to look her best, whether or not she had a man in her life. She was a firm believer that looking good and feeling good went hand in hand and today was no exception. Tina was wearing a long-sleeved, V-neck navy blue wrap dress that stopped just below the knee and which clung to her womanly curves. Her shiny black hair was swept up in a chignon in order to showcase the perfect strand of pearls and matching earrings Frank had given her for their first anniversary. The 6-inch black Louboutins pumps with silver encrusted flowers on the heels she was wearing brought her eye level with Colleen, who begrudgingly noted that Tina managed to look professional and confident while retaining her feminine beauty and looking younger than her 54 years.

"Why, Colleen," Tina greeted cordially and with much effort. "What a pleasant surprise." She lied.

Colleen responded by letting her eyes examine Tina from head to toe and back again. Although Colleen believed that she was quite adept at keeping her true feelings about the woman to herself, Tina noted with an inward smirk that her eyes were certainly telling a different story.

* * *

For years Colleen had heard about Fawn's friend Tina, but had never met her before coming face-to-face with the woman in St. Thomas' waiting room. It had been a bit of a shock to discover that the outspoken woman in the hospital and Fawn's "bestie" from Seattle were one and the same. For some reason Colleen had always assumed that Tina was Fawn's age. Discovering that Tina was far closer to her age instead, Colleen bristled at just how close the two seemed to be.

Since Fawn had regained consciousness, it had become abundantly clear that the bond she shared with Tina was more akin to that of a mother and daughter than two best friends. Colleen had used her visitations with Fawn to closely watch the two of them together and it irked her to no end just how quickly Fawn responded to Tina's prodding and direction. Even when she didn't agree with what Tina wanted her to do, Fawn would eventually bend to the older woman's will without throwing a tantrum. When Colleen thought about some of the hair-raising screaming matches she had engaged in with her daughter in the past, it pissed her off to see how Fawn just rolled over and did everything Tina suggested without giving her shit.

Thinking her distaste for the exotic-looking woman couldn't get any worse, Colleen learned from Lexie Dawson that Tina had indulged Fawn's foolhardy plan to relocate to Charming by investing time and money into the salon. Instead of letting Fawn fall flat on her face for biting off more than she could chew, Tina had also put her life in Seattle on hold and ran to her side in order to lend a helping hand in destroying Fawn's future. Judging by the obvious time and effort she put into her appearance, it was clear to Colleen that Tina Giamatti was one of those women who had too much free time and money on their hands and nothing better to do with either. Now she was killing time and throwing money away on an investment doomed to failure instead of letting it die a natural death.

As if it weren't already pathetically obvious that this woman was trying to supplant her as Fawn's mother, it was Colleen's belief that this Tina was also sexually involved with her estranged husband.

If her ever-presence around Alex and the way she dressed were any indication, Tina was nothing more than a biker groupie, just one of many that Alex was probably fucking at the moment. But Colleen had been thwarted in establishing that as a fact by Jolene Teller, who—just another biker slut herself—had quickly shut her down by coming to her mother's defense. All Colleen knew for certain was that she didn't like how Alex acted towards Tina at all. There was a level of respect there that he reserved for only a handful of women, their daughters being two and, if gossip was to be believed, Gemma Teller-Morrow was the other. Maybe it was just Alex softening with age but if he did have feelings for Tina, Colleen had no intention of giving him his freedom to live happily ever after.

Colleen had no delusions about her relationship with Alex. Any feelings they had for each other, if any had existed in the first place, had died tragically long before the day she told him to get the fuck off her parents' property and what the consequences would be if he ever tried dragging her and the girls off to Charming again. Alex had backhanded the taste out of her mouth for making such a threat, which only meant that he believed her capable of doing such a thing. Her swollen and bruised cheek and cut on her lip had been well worth it as Alex kept true to their agreement. Other than sending her a large wad of cash every month for the girls, he had little to no interaction with them, visiting the girls only once or twice a year.

When it came to women, Colleen knew that to Alex one was no better than the next. The packaging might be different, but when it came down to it, pussy was just pussy. That may have been the case when he had been fucking around on her with every sweetbutt to cross the threshold into the Tacoma Clubhouse, but something had changed and Colleen knew for a fact that something involved her daughter's much-loved friend.

Tina wasn't a typical croweater and she certainly didn't come across like a woman that allowed a man to treat her badly. The possibility that something serious was brewing between Alex and Tina didn't sit well with her, especially if Fawn had already given the relationship her stamp of approval. It was for that reason alone that Colleen had stuck around Charming longer than she had expected. With Fawn out of the hospital, she had fulfilled her duty as a mother but had decided to stay a bit longer to uncover the nature of Alex's involvement with Tina. Not presented with the opportunity to do just that, Colleen decided that she had used up enough of her vacation time and had advised Fawn that she would not be returning for the grand opening of the salon. In fact, Colleen had decided to head back to Oregon first thing the following day.

Fawn hadn't seemed too surprised by the announcement, even though Colleen noticed that she had grown suddenly quiet and a little distant. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Fawn had encouraged Colleen to at least stop by the salon before she left for a tour. At first, Colleen almost blurted how unnecessary that would be, but then she realized that Fawn had given her the perfect opportunity to speak with Tina one-on-one without Fawn or Alex interfering. Maybe then she could find out just what the nature of her relationship with Alex truly was.

 _I didn't stay bound to that asshole for over 30 years just so he could divorce me now_ , Colleen thought bitterly. _I put in my time and I'm the one who's entitled to his military pension and house._

"I hope its okay that I stopped by," Colleen said evenly. "I was hoping for a tour of the salon."

Having been part of a love triangle or two in her life before Frank, Tina knew what was coming. Determined not to make it any easier on Colleen by just volunteering whatever information she had come sniffing around for, Tina plastered the widest, brightest, and phoniest smile she could muster on her face and said with a sugary sweet voice, "There's nothing I'd love more. Follow me and we can start upstairs."

* * *

Tina was convinced that a 20-minute tour through hell would have been as pleasant as a stroll through Charming Gardens when compared to her experience with Colleen Trager. Normally, giving a visitor or a prospective client an exclusive preview of the salon had always given Tina a thrill. Just the day before, she had escorted Karen Oswald through the salon and it had taken nearly an hour. The socialite was almost giddy with excitement and was counting the days until the grand opening. Singing Fawn's praises, Mrs. Oswald had shared some of her nightmare experiences as she bounced from salon to salon while _Take Five_ had undergone its final transformation. They had spent much of the time commiserating about the horrible attack on Fawn as Mrs. Oswald expressed her concern for Fawn's well-being. The time had literally flown by.

Tina loved seeing the completed project from an outsider's perspective. It gave her no little sense of accomplishment that she had been able to play a part in the process of helping Fawn and Lexie bring their dreams to fruition. But this time around Tina realized that she could have been escorting a broom in a pant suit and would have gotten a greater show of enthusiasm.

Starting with the _Take Five Body Beautiful_ salon, Tina actually managed to speak with warmth as she directed Colleen's attention to the private rooms that would be used for massages, waxing, facials and body wraps, the Mani-Pedi stations, and the administrative offices. They then worked their way back downstairs using the elevator where Tina continued her tour by eagerly showing off the new work stations, shampoo and drying areas and the state of the art A/V equipment.

All in all, everyone who had taken the tour had expressed genuine feelings of delight, including Tig. Although he readily admitted to not knowing jack shit about the beauty business, he knew enough to know that he was extremely proud of his kid's accomplishments. If only Fawn's bitch of a mother showed a tenth of Tigger's pride, Tina knew it would make her friend's day.

During the 20-minute walkabout, Tina had prattled on and on about Fawn's vision for the salon and how she had managed the project from beginning to end, no detail too small to go unnoticed by the fiercely determined young woman.

However, as Tina beamed with pride, Colleen moved about like the walking dead, seemingly unimpressed by her daughter's hard work and creativity. Instead, she just shuffled her loafered-feet around the salon, barely nodding to acknowledge that she was still listening as Tina ushered her around. She expressed as much interest in her surroundings as someone looking around a house they had no intention of buying. Not knowing how Fawn would react was the only consideration keeping Tina from wringing Colleen Trager's neck.

It was fast becoming clear to Tina that _she_ , not the salon, was under Colleen's microscope.

 _Bring it, sweetie_ , Tina thought. _I've been waiting for years to give you a piece of my mind_.

After nearly losing Fawn's friendship by keeping the fact that she was Jolene's mother a secret, Tina had promised herself that she would never lie, by omission or otherwise, to Fawn again. She was dreading the conversation she would more than likely be drawn into once Fawn found out her mother had stopped by the salon. There was no way she would be able to sugarcoat Colleen's non-interest in her daughter's accomplishments without hurting her feelings. Although Fawn usually put on a good show, Tina knew that she secretly yearned for her mother's approval. Promise or no promise, Tina decided she would lie through her teeth before she disappointed her friend like that.

With the Prospects, Abel, and the two trainees eating a late lunch in the employee lounge, Tina and Colleen were now alone in the reception area. Glad she had made it this far without losing her mud, Tina was more than ready to wrap this little charade up so she could finally send the obnoxious woman on her way.

Unfortunately, once the charade was over, it was just getting started.

"Well, that's all of it. I'm sure you'd agree after seeing it first hand that Fawn and Lexie have worked really hard to make this business a success." Tina said with pride.

Colleen chuckled derisively. "Calling it a success is a little premature, don't you think? The place hasn't even opened yet."

 _Well, bitch, thank you so much for your vote of confidence_ , Tina thought grimly. "I have complete faith in Fawn. That girl can move mountains when she sets her mind to it."

"We must be discussing two different Fawns then." Colleen replied acidly and Tina felt her fingers tingle with the urge to clench into fists. "The Fawn _I know_ is too much like her father. She has yet to start living her life with any seriousness whatsoever. Doing hair is no better a career choice than riding a motorcycle for a living is and it definitely wasn't the best that Fawn could have done for herself. At this point, however, losing the shirt off her back might be the wake up call she needs. Maybe then she'll go back Seattle where at least she never had to worry about getting her head bashed in."

Tina did a double-take. "I'm sorry, but did I just hear you imply that it would be better if Fawn lost everything she has invested into her dream, and not just money by the way, as long as it meant that she would leave Charming?" She asked, slightly befuddled by the woman's audacity.

"I believe in being practical, something my daughter, unfortunately, did not inherit from me. I refuse to cheer her on when I know she's making the greatest mistake of her life. Not only are those responsible for her attack still out there, but now she has aligned herself with the likes of Opie Winston as well." Colleen stopped to run her hand through her hair in frustration.

"Opie is a good man." Tina cut in defensively. "He loves her and makes her happy."

Colleen rolled her eyes and laughed. "A good man? Like Alex is a good man too, I suppose? You know, they say girls with shitty fathers grow up and look for daddy in the men they get involved with. Has my daughter become that much of a cliché that she is willing to risk everything, including her own life, simply because she's 'happy' with a man no better than her father? And to think that she tested at genius level when she was twelve. Wouldn't know it to look at her now, huh? All those drugs she did must have fried her brain."

Tina was momentarily stunned speechless. "I think," She started, trying to stanch her growing anger. "The truth of the matter is that you have no idea who Fawn truly is. You may not agree with the choices she has made for herself, but the fact is that a lot of thought went into the decision she made to drastically change her life. It wasn't done on a whim and it was done for no one's benefit but her own." Tina argued on her friend's behalf. "She is a very dedicated and determined young woman. In my opinion, her brain is not fried at all and she is still very much a genius. Just look around and _actually_ see what she has done with this place. Even though we love her dearly, none of us would have invested so much time, effort, and money on a frivolous whim, and that includes her father."

"Well, well," Colleen crossed her arms. "Why am I not surprised? Of course Alex would invest his money in this dog and pony show. I can always count on him to screw shit up by tossing money at a situation instead of trying to talk some sense into her."

The vehemence in the woman's voice was startling and Tina was completely flabbergasted. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"I mean Alex has a habit of throwing good money after bad when it comes to Fawn. He did the same thing after she OD'd. Not only did he pay for rehab, but he paid for her to go to beauty school as well. _He's_ the reason our daughter is laid up today with a cracked skull and a broken arm!" Colleen argued vehemently. "Instead of pushing Fawn to go to college and then into a practical white-collar career, he encouraged her to follow her foolish dreams. 'Do whatever makes you happy' he told her. Thanks to him, those dreams have trapped her in this town, saddled with an old man like Opie Winston and a town full of white trash bikers and their whores."

"What the fuck—" Tina felt her tongue go numb, a sure sign she was about to lose her shit and start swinging. "You need to stop talking out of your ass because you have no idea who these people are or what this town is like! Those same _white trash bikers and their whores_ have rallied around Fawn not just through this ordeal, but they were there for her after the salon was first vandalized. As a matter of fact, you should be ashamed of yourself. As proud as you are of being a nurse, it's a crying shame that you haven't lifted a finger to care for your own daughter during her recovery. I guess you have just enough care and compassion on reserve to do your job that you can't afford to spare any on your daughter. But then again, when have you ever really been a mother to Fawn?"

Colleen's face turned a bright red with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as Tina scored a direct hit. "You don't know me or my situation! Just who the hell do you think you are to give me shit about anything? You call yourself Fawn's best friend, but what kind of friend would fuck her father?" She spit out triumphantly as Tina's eyes widened.

Tina took a moment to compose herself before responding. "You need to plug that nasty hole in your face, turn around and walk out of here while you're still standing."

Colleen tilted her head to the side and gave Tina a condescending look. "Oh, did I offend you? I thought stupid whores knew they were stupid whores. See, I had you pegged as one of Alex's whores from the moment I laid eyes on you, so I didn't think I was telling you something you didn't already know. Tell me, how much is he paying you, cunt—"

The tiny balled up fist slammed into Colleen's mouth so fast it was almost a blur and she hadn't seen it coming. Her body actually registered the hit before her mind had the chance to. Suddenly, the force of the blow propelled Colleen backwards and onto her ass as she fell on one of the new plush sofas in the reception area. In shock, Colleen ran her trembling fingers across her lip which she noted was already swelling.

"You hit me." Colleen stated simply, the shock evident in her voice.

"Yes I did!" Tina declared triumphantly.

In a quick flurry of movement, Tina kicked off her shoes and unsnapped the delicate lace garters holding up her thigh-high panty hose before pulling them off for better traction on the freshly polished marble floor. Now faced with an enormous height disadvantage without her heels, Tina nonetheless emanated power and fury as she braced herself for a retaliatory strike. She was a bit stunned by the fact that she had so completely lost control over herself, but enough was enough! Tina had reached her limit on shit talk concerning those she cared about the most. In one conversation Fawn's bitch of a mother had managed to disparage not only her own daughter and the way she chose to live her life but Tig, Opie, the entire Club and their women, including Tina's own daughter Jolene, and the entire town of Charming. There was only so much mud that she could keep contained after all.

Although radically different now, Tina more than vividly remembered the kind of woman Valentina Robles had been. Back then, Tina wouldn't have thought twice about taking up with a married man, but she wasn't that woman anymore. Tina had thought long and hard about getting involved with Tig knowing that he was still married to Fawn's mother. Even the fact that they had been estranged for over twenty years wasn't enough to assuage the twinge of guilt she felt having crossed that line with Tig. To have this horrible woman calling her names in an effort to demean Tina's relationship with Tig was a transparent and pathetic effort on Colleen's part to re-brand Tig as her own and that was something Tina wasn't going to stand for.

With angry eyes shooting sparks, Tina leveled a glare at the woman still sprawled out on the sofa. "Just in case you have anything else you want to get off your chest, just know that I've got nothing but time and opportunity to bounce your ass all over this place."

"Coll' doesn't have shit to say," Tig hollered as he practically ran into the salon. "But I sure as fuck do!"

* * *

Having just parked his ride in front of the salon, the SAA was not prepared to see Colleen and Tina squaring off through the glass doors of the salon. Cursing under his breath, Tig was fighting the urge to run for the hills knowing that he had to go inside and quash whatever the fuck was brewing. In no hurry to share the same air space as his gash of an old lady, Tig took his time removing his helmet before casually strolling towards the entrance. Suddenly and without warning, Tig was momentarily frozen in mid-stride as he saw his little petite Doll land a solid right across Colleen's face. Stunned to the point that his reaction time had slowed down significantly, Tig finally burst into the salon in time to be completely ignored as Colleen leaped off the couch and lunged for Tina.

Fortunately, the apple that was Jolene Teller had most definitely not fallen far from the tree that was Tina Giamatti. Having watched the smaller, feistier woman strip down to fight had been sexy as hell, but Tina's anger was not to be denied. Rooted to the spot by a mixture of shock and awe, Tig watched as Tina ducked under his old lady's outstretched arms as she landed a small but powerful blow to Colleen's solar plexus. With a whoosh of air pushed out of her lungs by the impact, Colleen collapsed to the floor on her knees. It was only then that Tig snapped out of it in time to stop Tina from pouncing on the fallen woman.

"C'mon, Doll," Tig urged as he practically lifted Tina off her bare feet and pulled her away. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but you need to calm down and let me handle this shit."

"Fuck that, Tig! Do you know what she called me? _What she said about Fawn_?" Tina raged.

Quickly managing to catch her breath, Colleen climbed onto her feet and immediately went after Tina with a shrill scream. Suddenly, Tig found himself being pushed out of the way and slammed against the reception desk. Kicking wildly, Colleen landed a foot to the side of his knee. His leg buckled underneath his weight, causing his chin to slam against the edge of the marble countertop as the two women started grappling. Wincing as he absently rubbed his smarting chin, Tig finally managed to get in between Tina and Colleen long enough to shove them apart.

"Enough!" Tig called out, breathing heavily from his exertions, his heart pounding in his chest. "I said that's ENOUGH!" He yelled.

The commotion had finally reached the back of the salon, summoning a group of thundering feet. Getting there first, Abel skidded to a stop next to his grandmother and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Nana! What the fuck happened?" Abel did a quick inventory of Tina, making sure she was unharmed before turning angry eyes on the SAA. "What the fuck did you do?"

"Slow your roll, kid. I didn't do shit." Tig said heatedly.

"Dude," Harry said with a note of awe in his voice. "Looks like Tina's been kicking ass and taking names."

Shifting his eyes over to the tall, redheaded woman, Abel's green eyes widened as he quickly catalogued the woman's disheveled appearance and the huge fat lip she was sporting. "Holy shit!" He said loudly. Over the years, even though he never got the chance to witness her in action, Abel had heard stories about the legendary bad ass his mother had been when younger. Now it seemed that he had also missed the opportunity of a lifetime to see just where his mother got her skills from. "Shit, Nana. Did you do that to her lip?"

Tina's heart sunk a little in her chest as she looked up into the eyes of her tall grandson. _How could I have been so bloody stupid_? _Jolene's going to kill me for fighting in front of her son._

"Uh," Tina stammered.

Seeing her sudden distress as her cheeks flushed pink, not with rage, but embarrassment, Tig intervened. "Listen, kid. Tina didn't start it, but she sure finished it, huh?"

Colleen sputtered indignantly. "How the hell would you know who started what?! You weren't even here when this WHORE punched me in the face!"

"Whoa!" Abel stepped in front of his grandmother and faced Colleen. "Watch your mouth!"

"Or what, you goddamned hooligan?!" Colleen roared back. "You're gonna hit me too?!"

"No, but I will toss your ass out!" Abel replied confidently.

"I'd love to see you try!" Colleen spit out, the smirk on her face making it a challenge.

Suddenly, a screaming match ensued between Colleen and _everyone_ else in the room except Tig, who was pulling at his curly locks as he tried to restore order to no avail.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Tig finally bellowed at the top of his lungs. "NOW!" The silence was almost instantaneous as everyone stopped yelling and talking over each other and looked at Tig with eyes wide and mouths agape. "Alright, that's better. Now, if you're name ain't Tina or Colleen, get the fuck out and let me deal with this shit." He ordered, quickly raising a hand to stop Abel from opening his mouth to protest. "I think all of yous heard me, so go!"

With that, the wide-eyed manicurists, along with Rat-Boy and V-Lin headed back towards the employee lounge. Tig turned hard, cold eyes on Abel and Harry as neither made the effort to move a muscle. After about ten seconds of being on the receiving end of the SAMCRO officer's bone-chilling death glare, the two young men reluctantly made their way behind the partition. The last thing Tig needed was having the President's kid trying to jack him up for shit he didn't start, which was why he sent the kid packing. Now, all he had to do was to face the problem at hand.

Turning around, Tig suddenly found himself confronted by two extremely pissed off broads.

_THIS is why I beat fuckin' hookers!_

* * *

_Is it so wrong of me that all I want to do right now is bang the shit out of my Doll,_ Tig thought looking down at Tina as he shifted the hard on causing his jeans to tighten to the side. The not-so-discreet action elicited two different reactions from the two women standing before him, with Colleen rolling her eyes in disgust as Tina batted impossibly long eyelashes at him while trying to suppress a sexy smirk. _Yep, I think we're going to have to hit one of those rooms upstairs in a minute_ ,Tig grinned inwardly with satisfaction at the thought that Tina seemed to be on the same page _._

However, had Tig known that he would be walking into an epic brawl, he would have just taken his ass straight to the Clubhouse as he had initially planned. Judging by the way Tina had been fighting, she had been well on her way to ridding Tig of the albatross around his neck that was the mother of his girls.

 _I coulda cleaned up by making a deposit at Skeeter's and then taken Tina out to celebrate_ , Tig thought sourly. _Fawnzy wouldn't have to know shit._

As usual, Tig had spent the morning overseeing the gun assembly at the Club's warehouse. Since Filthy Phil and Half Sack had everything well under control, he decided to head back to town, stopping first at the salon to check on the Prospects' security detail before heading over to see his kid. Since Fawn had moved into Ope's, Tig had gotten into the habit of stopping by for a visit in the late afternoon, _long_ afterColleen had paid her daily duty visit. Colleen's determination to avoid running into Opie gave Tig the ability to co-exist in the same town with his gash without having to fucking kill her. Needless to say, the last thing he had expected when he showed up at the salon was to find his estranged wife already there looking to start shit with T.

Tig wasn't sure what bug had crawled up his gash old lady's ass to die, but Coll' was long overdue for an ass reaming and he was itching to be the one to give it to her. So after a week of biting his tongue, the mother charter's SAA opened his mouth and cut loose.

"What the fuck, Coll'? You know better than to stick your nose in my business. Why are you starting shit with Tina?" He said, wrapping a possessive arm around Tina's slim waist as he looked straight into Colleen's angry green eyes. "You ain't seen fit to take care of my needs in over 25 years, so unless you're volunteering, not that I'm interested, you need to fuck off."

Colleen made a face like she was about to throw up. "I wouldn't touch your nasty dick with a ten-foot pole—"

"And I ain't asking you to. Again, I got my shit covered right here." Tig squeezed Tina to his side. "She's a lotta woman and a keeper."

_Oh shit! Did I really just say that?_

Almost hesitating to look at Tina hoping against hope that she had missed his little slip of the tongue, Tig missed the look of complete shock that crossed Colleen's face. He didn't, however, miss the confusion on Tina's that seemed to mirror his own.

The last thing Tina had expected to hear was any sort of statement regarding commitment from the outlaw. She had willingly entered into a physical relationship with Tig with no expectations as she knew exactly the kind of man she had chosen to involve herself with. Tina was quite sure that since they had been together, Tig's steady diet of the croweaters and sweetbutts down at the Clubhouse had been on the decline. However, she wasn't so naïve as to not realize that they were still very much a part of his menu. After all, Tig Trager was a man with a voracious sexual appetite.

But now Tina had to wonder just where his head was at. Shaking her head, Tina convinced herself that she had heard more than what Tig had meant by calling her a keeper and that he had only said that to wind up his idiot of a wife. And looking at the angry woman standing across from them, Tina believed that it had worked.

Colleen couldn't believe what she had just heard. There was no way that Alex—a man not made to exist happily in a relationship—could seriously be looking into making something permanent with the tart that had reduced her to fighting like a Club whore again. So in true Colleen fashion, she refused to acknowledge it.

"I don't give a shit who you fuck, Alex," Colleen lied convincingly. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to roll over and let your whores treat me like I am one of them."

"Coll', I may not have heard what you two were saying to each other before I came in, but I know you." Tig explained calmly. "You have a viper's tongue and I just know that whatever you said earned you that punch in the face. Tina's a classy broad, but if you thought you could take pot shots at her without suffering the consequences, now you know different."

"She threw the first punch, asshole, yet your first instinct is to take her side." Colleen said angrily. "You must suck a really good cock!" She directed at Tina.

"You bet I do, sweetheart!" Tina replied defiantly before Tig got the chance to respond. "But the point is somebody needed to stop you from talking shit about Fawn and her life here by shutting your pie hole for you. I won't apologize for it either because if Fawn knew how you really felt about her and her life choices, she would be devastated."

"Yet it's funny how none of that concerns you!" Colleen raged.

"But it concerns me." Tig said in a deceptively calm voice.

Colleen huffed as she rolled her eyes. "Of course it does. You two are cut from the same cloth—"

"And that's what kills ya, isn't it, Coll'?" Tig cut in. "That's why Dawny always gets a pass while you give Fawnzy so much shit because me and the kid are so much alike."

"You don't know shit, Alex." Colleen scoffed. "You don't know anything about me or my relationship with the girls."

"I know you hate me and that you did your best to keep me away from them when they were small." Tig explained. "Now that they're grown, you managed to drive a wedge between me and Dawn, but it kills you that Fawnzy always reached out to me, wanted me to be a part of her life while she pushed you away. Instead of blaming me, you need to look at yourself and figure out why that is."

"Oh shut up!" Colleen spit out as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You are a goddamned fool and a hypocrite if you think yourself qualified to psychoanalyze anyone, you crazy fuck!"

"You can deny it all you want, Coll', but you used the girls to punish me and even they knew it. You used those little girls as weapons and I had no choice but to back off and let you call the shots because I was afraid of what you would do to them if I didn't." Tig accused angrily. "And I was a fuckin' coward for letting you get away with it. What I shoulda done was throttle you within an inch of your miserable life for cutting me out of their lives because I was a shitty old man to you. You reduced me to nothing more than the man who sent them money every month and you resented me for that too."

"And why shouldn't I? I was—I am _still_ your wife, Alex! After all the shit you put me through, once you came to Charming you never once provided _me_ with what was my due." Colleen argued. "Where was my fuckin' wad of monthly cash?!"

Tig angrily fisted a hand in his hair to keep himself from striking out at Colleen. "You are one twisted bitch, you know that?! If that was all you cared about then you should've come with me to Charming. As my old lady, I would have given you whatever you wanted, Coll', but with you in fuckin' Oregon, you sure as shit weren't giving me what I needed. Why would I send you shit when it was other men that were getting to fuck _my wife_?"

"You selfish son of a bitch!" Colleen said vehemently. "So that's how it worked? I wasn't giving you any, so I wasn't getting any in return? How about the fact that I gave you two children and your only concern was their welfare? The only time you ever did anything for me was if it somehow involved them!" Colleen said bitterly. "If Dawn hadn't come to you for money, I never would have gotten my roof fixed!"

Tig's face slowly twisted into an angry snarl. "You fuckin' piece of shit!" Colleen's bright green eyes widened as she realized what she had said aloud. Lunging for her, Tig wrapped a ringed-hand around Colleen's throat and slammed her down onto one of the couches.

"Oh God, Tig! No!" Tina jumped onto Tig's back. Yanking on his arm, Tina tried in vain to free Colleen from his death grip as he squeezed her neck to the point where the woman was clawing at him as she gasped for air. "Please let go. You're gonna kill her." She tried reasoning with him as she spoke into his ear.

"That's kinda the point, Doll!" Tig growled not easing his hold on Colleen. "Let go, T! I love ya but I can't be held responsible if I hurt you right now!"

Stunned by what Tig had just said, Tina stopped trying to pull his hand free from Colleen's neck as the woman continued choking. Suddenly, Tina was flung away and onto the couch as Abel and Harry pounced on Tig, finally managing to get him to release his murderous hold on his old lady. As they pulled him off of her, Colleen slid onto the floor, the coughing and crying making it nearly impossible for her to catch her breath.

"Jesus, Tig!" Harry yelled as he practically had to rattle the SAA like a rag doll to get him to focus on him instead of the heap on the floor.

"Abel," Tina called out to her grandson. "Help her up and take her to the back."

"NO!" Tig roared, but didn't make a move towards Colleen mainly because the Prospect was a giant with the strength of three grown men. "That bitch used my kids, pitted one against the other to get money out of me. DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU DID, COLLEEN?!"

With one hand on her sore throat, Colleen used the other to wipe at the tears on her face as she looked up at Tig. "I swear," She started hoarsely. "I never meant for any of that to happen."

Tina looked from Colleen on the floor up to Tig with wide eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

"She was the one who put Dawn up to get money out of me, claiming that Fawn needed to go back to rehab." Tig replied, his voice thick with emotion. Harry and Abel's eyes bounced around the room, not sure where to look as two fat tears ran down the SAA's face.

"What?" Tina shook her head, refusing to believe that Fawn's own mother would do that.

" _She's_ the reason my kid wouldn't talk to me for almost two fuckin' years! _She's_ the reason Fawn avoids talking to her sister!" Tig accused. "You hate me that fuckin' much that you would destroy their relationship when all they ever really had was each other?"

"That wasn't my intention, I swear!" Colleen cried. "I didn't know that was the excuse Dawn would use to get the money."

"But you got Dawn to lie to me in order to get it!" Tig shot back.

"I needed the money, Alex." Colleen practically whined. "One of the trees in my backyard rotted and collapsed on the house after a bad storm and my insurance wouldn't cover it. The girls never had a problem getting anything from you, so I figured it would be easy enough for Dawn to do it. I found out after the fact, I swear."

"But you just let me walk right into that trap, didn't you?" Tig asked bitterly. "I don't give a shit about the money, Coll', but when Fawn called me not a week later, I jumped down her fuckin' throat for not coming to me about relapsing. She was hurt that I had taken Dawn's word at face value instead of checking with her first. After that, she refused to talk to me and you knew the truth the whole time and you kept it quiet. That's some fucked up shit right there, Coll'."

"That wasn't my intention," Colleen repeated lamely. "But the damage had already been done—"

"And as long as your nose was clean, you were okay with letting me take the fall, _again_." Tig shook his head. " _I'm_ the fuck up. _I'm_ the bad guy. _I'm_ the shitty father. Well, that shit ends _today_."

Colleen's eyes widened in panic. "What? Are you going to tell her?"

Colleen flinched as Tig broke free from Harry and walked over to her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he lifted her off the ground. Setting her on unsteady feet, Colleen stood face-to-face with the cold-blooded killer and felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. "Nothing would make me happier than snapping your neck like a fuckin' twig right now. It would be a lot easier to do that than having to tell Fawn what a fuckin' liar and fraud she has for a mother because it would destroy her. Short of a life or death situation, she would _never_ forgive you. Trust me, I know. The best thing that's ever happened to me was getting shot because it brought her back into my life." He sighed.

Tig stepped away from Colleen and rubbed both ringed hands on his face. "So here's what I'm gonna do. The last thing I wanna do is dump more hurt on that kid, so I'm giving your ass a pass, which is a hell of a lot more than you've ever done for me. It's a one-time only deal, so listen carefully." He watched as Colleen's shoulders suddenly wilted and her eyes dropped to the floor refusing to look at him. "When are you leaving Charming?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, after my visit with Fawn." Colleen replied woodenly.

"Wrong. You're leaving _right now_. You're picking your shit up from the Ramada and then you're hitting the fuckin' road back to Oregon. Tomorrow—let's say at four o'clock because I want to be there—you're gonna call Fawnzy and apologize for skipping town early but your job called asking you to cut your vacation short 'cause they needed you back. _Then_ you're gonna tell her how proud you are of _everything_ she's done here and you make it sound fuckin' sincere 'cause I'll know if you didn't, you hear me? Once you do all that, you stop and think long and hard about your shitty life and you figure out a way to make shit right with your kids before it's too late."

Colleen nodded weakly.

"Don't nod at me." Tig sounded offended. "Just get the fuck out of here. Go!"

Quickly grabbing her handbag and coat that were lying on one of the chairs, Colleen Trager didn't say a word as she walked out of the salon.

For a long moment, no one spoke as the uncomfortable silence continued to build. Finally, Tina rose to her feet and slowly walked over to Tig, who was standing stock still as he stared out the salon's window with unseeing eyes.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Tina looked up at him. "Are you okay?" She asked softly.

The SAA looked down at a beautiful pair of concerned green eyes. "Shit, I can't even say for sure, T. I feel like I've been run over by a truck."

"I'm sorry." Standing on the tips of her toes, Tina dropped a soft kiss on his lips.

"She kept me and Fawnzy apart because of some shit she caused over fuckin' money." Tig said shaking his head. "Thing that gets me, T, is that had Coll' asked, I would've given it to her."

"I know, baby." Tina reached up to caress his cheek. "It must be hard just letting it go, but I want you to know that I think you did the right thing by putting your daughter first. Colleen could learn a thing or two from you."

Tig tried hard to suppress a cocky smile. "Nah! Poor Fawnzy got dealt a shit hand when it came to parents."

"No," Tina shook her head as she grabbed his face with both hands. "Don't ever say that again, Tig. I won't stand hearing that shit coming from you. I am so fuckin' proud of you."

"Yeah?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah." Tina smiled as Tig swooped down and enveloped her mouth in a soul-sucking kiss.

"AH-HEM!"

Tig reluctantly let Tina go as she pulled away from him. Looking at Harry and Abel—who had rudely interrupted with an ill-timed throat clearing—he did a double-take. "Nosy much? What are you two fuck-tards still doing here?" Tig narrowed his eyes as the young men stood their ground. "Maybe that came out wrong. What I meant to say was repeat a word of what happened here and I'll rape you both. Now, GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, FUCK-TARDS!" He bellowed as the Prospect and Abel scrambled to get lost. "Sheesh!" Tig exclaimed as he pulled a laughing Tina into his arms.

"Now, where were we?" Tina asked. Looking up into his amazingly blue eyes, she couldn't help but wonder what was going on through that mind of his, especially where she was concerned.

"I'll tell you where we were. I was about to get me some pussy!" Tig said with a huge grin as Tina heaved an exaggerated sigh. "What?! Woman, do you have any idea how fuckin' sexy you looked beating my gash to shit?"

Tina rolled her eyes. "I didn't _beat_ her. It was a lucky shot." She shrugged her delicate shoulders.

"C'mon, T." Tig cajoled with a devilish spark in his eyes. "Let's go upstairs and let me fuck ya." He winked at her.

"Tig Trager! This is a place of business." Tina chastised with the seriousness of a schoolmarm. Stepping away from Tig, she locked the front door before scooping up her shoes and nylons from the floor where she had discarded them earlier. Flashing him a pretty smile, Tina made a break for the stairs as she called out over her shoulder. "Last one upstairs gets to be on the bottom!"

* * *

The night air was cool and crisp as it wafted through the slightly opened windows of the van parked deep in the shadows of a large grove of trees. The vehicle was practically invisible under the cover of darkness. It was just after midnight and the crew of three inside the van had been lying in wait for over two hours. Although the occupants were as quiet as it was dark inside the van, the thought that they were waiting in vain was at the forefront of all their minds.

"Maybe with his old lady and kids away he decided not to come home tonight." Jax finally gave voice to the unspoken concern that grew among them as the minutes ticked away. The longer they waited, the greater the chance someone would spot them. "Think we should call it a night?" He asked Opie, keeping one eye on the street and the other on his brother.

"No." Opie replied tersely. "We wait, Jax. You convinced me to do things your way, so now we are gonna see this shit through."

The two men were sitting in the front of the cargo van, with Jax as the wheelman and Opie riding shotgun. They both had their eyes firmly fixed on the road in front of them that veered slightly left and into the gated community of Cobblestone, a 55-acre property on the outskirts of Modesto.

"What are we gonna do if this motherfucker doesn't show up tonight?" Tig's voice echoed in the darkness from behind them. "Shit! I knew this was a bad idea. We should have gone with Plan A."

Jax rolled his eyes underneath the brim of his black knit hat pulled low onto his forehead, knowing that Tig was referring to Happy and his bag of tricks. "Bro, you're starting to sound like a broken record." He threw over his shoulder at Tig. "And I'm not talking about abandoning the plan, Ope, but what if Boland doesn't show up tonight? We just can't sit here, out in the open, waiting until the sun comes up."

"I understand what's at stake here, Jax." Opie said through a clenched jaw. "Believe me, the last thing I want is getting busted with my dick in my—" Suddenly, Opie fell silent, his eyes narrowed into slits as he spotted a pair of headlights from a low slung foreign made sports car as it made its way towards them. "Is that him?" His voice was low once again.

Jax focused the binoculars he was holding on the car and confirmed the license plate. "Yep, looks like shithead finally decided to bring his ass home."

"Then let's make our move." Opie said, checking the safety on his Sig Sauer before jamming it back into his shoulder holster under the dark hoodie he wore.

"I still think I should come with." Tig said grimly as he grabbed Jax's shoulder.

Turning to face his brother's earnest face, Jax shook his head. "And I said you shouldn't. We need you here with the van and ready to go at a moment's notice. No going rogue and no guns blazing cowboy bullshit, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Got it." Tig groused. "But don't keep my ass out here waiting all fuckin' night."

"Ready, Ope?" Jax asked as he pulled on his black leather gloves.

In response, Opie opened the passenger door and hopped out without saying a word, his mind already focused on the job at hand.

* * *

Leonard Boland loosened his Armani tie from around his neck on his way to the study. Pulling it off, he thoughtlessly dropped it on the floor of the hallway for Carmelita the maid to pick up in the morning. It had been a long day for him and not a very productive one either and he needed a good stiff drink. Maybe two.

Moving around in the darkness of his study, he navigated confidently across the large room to the far side where his liquor cabinet was located, the moonlight spilling onto the dark hardwood floors through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows lighting his path. Sitting on top and within easy reach was a crystal decanter containing his favorite unblended whiskey. Pouring several fingers into a matching crystal tumbler, he grabbed the decanter by its neck and made his way to sit behind the large antique desk that his second wife had bought him for their fifth anniversary.

Placing both on the gleaming surface of his desk, he quickly stripped off his custom made suit jacket to reveal the matching vest underneath. Tossing it onto one of the chairs, Boland allowed his large and powerful frame to fall with a loud thud into his executive-style leather chair as he knocked back the whiskey in one large gulp.

 _What kind of a bullshit fix have you gotten yourself into, Leonard my boy_ , he thought grimly as he poured himself another whiskey.

He should have listened to that damn wimp Don Forsyth who predicted that sending Sam to that salon a second time would be a big mistake. Fortunately for him, the cops in Charming were fuckin' clueless and had not made the connection between Boland-Howard and both attempts to vandalize the shop. Somehow, however, Leonard had the feeling that sort of blissful ignorance wasn't going to last forever.

Boland couldn't believe how quickly shit had gone south on a job that should have been as easy as stealing candy from a baby. Shit had soured quickly as soon as he started buckling under the pressure from what should have been a silent partner. Looking back, although the plan had seemed solid, he now realized that he had been something of a fool. Blinded by the potential to make millions being waved in front of his face, he had not seen the sharp nasty hook underneath until he bit and he was now truly caught.

At the base, the project was ambitious, but well planned out. All they had to bring to the table was the land necessary to bring the project to fruition. As simple as that sounded, it was also the weakest point of the whole scheme considering the backwoods mentality of the residents of Charming who had little love for corporations and had managed to keep franchises and big business out of its borders. Changing that kind of inbred mentality would take time, but his not-so-silent partner disagreed, insisting that sometimes muscle would succeed where patience failed.

Terrorizing several stubborn owners into selling their property on the cheap had been a mistake, culminating in the attack that had resulted in the hospitalization of one of the owners of a local hair salon. Now Boland found himself dancing around all day in order to stay out of the police's crosshairs. He had been ducking meeting with the erstwhile Sheriff of Charming whose wife also happened to be the owner of one of the targeted businesses. How the fuck Don had missed that connection was beyond him and with a woman critically injured during the attack, Boland couldn't afford having Forsyth found. Don Forsyth had been the face of Boland-Howard in Charming and the loose end the authorities needed to make a direct connection to the money man behind the whole scheme.

So Boland continued making excuses of having to attend to pressing business in order to avoid meeting with the Sheriff. He had instructed his attorneys to advise the Sheriff that Don Forsyth was no longer employed by his development corporation. He also sent his son out East to stay with his brother. As angry as Leonard had been at Don, he was livid with Sam for hiring that asswipe crony of his for the job. The stupid little shit had been responsible for attacking the woman and although Sam had gotten rid of him, he was afraid of what would happen should the police get hold of him, too. He knew just a little too much information about the nature of the project.

Boland knew that getting Don and Sam out of town only brought him so much time, but he hoped it would be enough so that he could consult with his partners and to find a way out of this shithole. He was tempted to just kill the project entirely, wait a few years for things to cool down and then try to move ahead again in Charming. Otherwise, the only other option Boland could see included him exchanging his tailor-made suits for prison-issued orange scrubs. He had already invested too much money and time to watch it all crash and burn now.

Thinking that it was probably best to make his way to his empty bed before he finished off the whiskey, Boland had at least ten years shaved off his lifespan as his study was suddenly flooded with light. Standing in the doorway were two huge and menacing figures dressed in black.

"Who—who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?!" Boland practically screeched.

"Doesn't really matter who I am," The larger of the two men said as he made his way to Leonard's desk. "But if you and your son have grown attached to breathing, you're gonna want to do whatever the fuck I say."


	38. Hometown Heroes

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

Hale Development Corporation occupied a small but distinguished red brick building located in the most prosperous section of Main Street. Nestled between the parcels of land that housed Charming Savings & Loan and the Town Hall—home of the Mayor's office and City Council—it made for an easy commute to and fro for Mayor Jacob Hale Jr. between his political and business offices.

For over three generations, the Hale family had been a governing force in the town of Charming. It was Jacob's ancestor Daniel Hale who had co-founded the town and in his family's heyday, the Hales had been one of the most prominent families in San Joaquin County, second only to the Oswalds. But after several unexpected financial mishaps in the 1970s, for the last 40 years the tide had turned and the Oswalds were now financially head and shoulders above the Hales. Although still wealthy in their own right, the Hales had forsaken their frontiersmen roots and had turned to academia, branching out as lawyers and judges and into real estate development and politics.

For Jacob, becoming mayor of Charming had been the first step of a very bold plan. Taking advantage of a town crisis over four years ago, Hale had done everything possible to position himself in what had previously been just a ceremonial office and had turned it into the real seat of power in the small town.

There was no doubt in Mayor Hale's mind that the town, as well as his family, would prosper financially if not for the archaic and backwoods mentality that kept big business out of Charming. In all fairness, it should be noted that Jacob Hale was a proud founding son who loved his hometown. What he didn't care for was the spell the residents seemed to be under with regards to Charming's self-appointed outlaw guardians, the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Original.

_What a fucking joke!_

They were nothing more than a group of biker thugs that had infiltrated the idyllic town under the guise of ridding it of a number of quality of life issues. Even though as a politician Hale couldn't argue with the statistics ranking Charming among the safest of all the small towns in Northern California, he refused to give SAMCRO proper credit because as he saw it, they were nothing more than hardened criminals themselves. By keeping out big business and keeping the streets safe, SAMCRO also kept law enforcement weak and lazy, allowing themselves a wide berth to conduct their illegal enterprises virtually unnoticed.

Judging by the houses they lived in and the vehicles driven by their "old ladies", business was a-booming for SAMCRO. Unfortunately, by convincing the residents that the corporate bogeymen would suck Charming's soul down to the husk, they guaranteed that the town would remain frozen in time. Their more than 40-year existence in Charming, having thus far gone unchecked, had stymied the town's potential for commercial growth, hobbling its ability to compete with the other towns in Sanwa County.

 _But no more_.

Jacob Hale was determined to change that as he had long ago realized that a change in the status quo was long past due. Both he and his father had hoped that when his younger brother David had returned from the Marines and had joined Charming's then meager police force that he would be the guiding force that would finally oust the Sons from their town. After more than four years as first deputy and then deputy chief of Charming PD, however, David had proven unsuccessful in his efforts. Although Jacob gave his little brother proper credit for trying and almost succeeding on a number of occasions, David had finally given up trying for love. Eventually marrying a long-distance girlfriend and former-Charming resident, Veronica Armstrong, David had relocated to Washington State to start a new life along with a new career.

So when the opportunity presented itself to finally make a difference, Jacob decided that he would succeed where his brother had failed. Politicking, campaigning, greasing palms, kissing babies, and taking a stand against the gang of outlaws in their midst, Hale had propelled himself to the top of the political food chain as the town's new mayor. The redevelopment of Charming had always been on his agenda and he had used his time as a member of the City Council to make changes to the zoning laws that would enable him as Mayor to put those plans into motion.

Now as he sat in his office flipping through the 300-page prospectus, the cornerstone of what would be his crowning achievement and legacy long after he was gone, it occurred to Hale that he was finally on the verge getting what he wanted. While a calculated risk, vandalizing _Stems and Bulbs_ had lit a fire under the good Sheriff Roosevelt, motivating him to find those responsible as the matter had become personal. All Hale had to do was point him in the direction of the thorn in his flesh, giving Roosevelt a strong incentive for going after the Sons and finally eradicating the white trash infestation once and for all.

 _Soon the fucking Sons of Anarchy will be nothing but an ugly footnote in this town's history books_ , Hale gloated to himself.

With the recent attacks on two businesses in Charming, one of which was under the protection of the Sons, the town was up in arms. To the more conservative residents, it appeared as if the MC's sins were once again catching up to it and, as had been the case four years ago, the town was once again paying the price. With what little evidence there was pointing to the Club's criminal activities as the underlying cause of the attacks, Mayor Hale had now taken up the mantle of Town Crier as well in order to spread ill will towards SAMCRO, hoping to finally drive a permanent wedge between the dirty biker gang and the town, forcing them to leave Charming.

Lost in his visions of the new Charming he would be responsible for creating, Jacob was startled by the familiar and loud booming voice he heard in the vestibule outside his closed office door. Striding towards his open safe, he had barely shoved the prospectus inside when his door burst open.

Turning around, Mayor Hale frowned as he looked into the angry eyes of Leonard Boland.

* * *

"Well, Leonard, please do come in." Jacob said sarcastically as the powerfully built man strode inside with Hale's secretary nipping at his heels as she apologized profusely for letting him slip by her.

"It's all right, Vicky." Hale said although his cold flinty blue-eyed stare said otherwise. "I'll handle this. Hold all calls until further notice."

Practically slamming the door in her face, Jacob turned around to face the clearly agitated man who was now standing by the large picture window facing the street. Casually walking back to his desk, Hale sat down and leaned back in his chair to eye his partner. "So Leo, would you like to explain why the fuck you're standing in my office right now? I'm pretty sure we agreed on no contact between us in public."

"Tough shit, Jake!" Boland shot back. "You've been dodging my calls for the last 24 hours. You left me no other choice but to do this here."

"And what is it that you feel you have to do?" Hale asked casually.

"I want out." Boland replied bluntly, his florid face as serious as a heart attack. "I am here to cut my losses and dissolve our partnership."

Jacob narrowed his eyes. "You must be hitting that favorite whiskey of yours a little harder than usual. You're not getting out of anything."

"That's where you're wrong." Leonard paced back and forth in front of the desk. "This clusterfuck is not what I signed on for when you came to me over a year ago. You claimed this was a bold and exciting project that would make us a shit load of money and I believed you. It sounded like a great plan at the time, but I didn't know I was signing up for all this other bullshit in order to make it happen. Trashing businesses, threatening people, _hurting women_ —"

"As you will recall, all that shit happened on _your_ watch." Hale interrupted. "This deal, my name and my connections are making it happen. Your task was quite simple and it's certainly not my fault you failed to handle it properly." Pulling an expensive cigar out of the beautifully carved humidor sitting on the credenza behind his desk, Jacob clipped the end and lit it, blowing a trail of gray-blue smoke into the air over his head. "We're playing with the big boys, Leo. You know that means we need to do whatever it takes to get us across the finish line."

"How can you sit there and say that your hands are clean of this whole debacle when you're the one calling the shots since before I came onboard? I was following _your_ orders to get it done." Boland argued.

"And did you, Leo? Did you get it done?" Hale asked sarcastically as he rolled his cigar between his thumb and middle finger.

"No," Boland conceded, albeit reluctantly. "But with the stink of the attacks hanging over us there's no way we'll be able to finish buying out that tract of land now. What we've managed to acquire so far is useless to us without all of it and good luck trying to get it after the attack on that woman."

"Again, that was a part of your task which you failed to execute properly." Hale chastised, his tone becoming increasingly venomous. "Why should you get to walk away with your tail between your legs when you assured me time and again that you were the man for the job?"

Slightly agitated, Boland rubbed the stubble on his face. "You knew there would be resistance in this town and what did you say to me? How did you say I should handle any problem or obstacle that got in the way?"

"By any means necessary!" Hale nearly bellowed in response. "But where in that statement does it say that I would claim responsibility for your fuck ups?!" He pounded a meaty fist on the leather blotter on his desk. "NOWHERE, that's where!"

Throwing his cigar into the crystal ashtray in front of the picture of his wife and three teenage children, Hale got up from his chair. Shaking his head, Jacob gave Leonard Boland a sideways glance.

 _The man's a mess_ , Hale thought to himself with no little surprise as he took in Boland's unkempt and unshaven appearance. He may not have been too far off the mark when he'd suggested Boland had been hitting the liquor a little harder than normal.

Walking over to Boland, Hale put a strong hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Leo. The fact is we are in this together. We've been friends for years, but our business relationship is symbiotic: you need me and I need you and nothing good will ever come from finger-pointing." Jacob smiled evenly. "That is why you are not pulling out of this deal, not when we're this close. I've done my part and spent too much money getting City Council members and the Sanwa Zoning Commissioner to support this project."

"And that was money well spent, huh?" Boland's laughter bordered on hysterical. "That dickhead did squat to put the kibosh on the renovations of not one, but two buildings!"

The Mayor nodded. "I agree. The Commish could have been a little more aggressive. But to be fair, it has been my experience that Charming entrepreneurs are not usually so stubborn. We should have _adjusted_ our plans when it came to dealing with the outsiders who own the property that damn salon sits on." Hale countered. "And for the record, getting the Zoning Commissioner in our pocket now will serve us well later. Remember, this is only Phase One."

"So you're not letting me walk?" Boland asked a little desperately.

Hale shook his head. Turning on the heel of his wing-tipped shoes, the Mayor went back to his chair and picked up his cigar. "Why are you so fucking eager to throw the baby out with the bath water, Leo? So shit got a little complicated. We'll deal with it. As a matter of fact, even before you came storming in here _uninvited_ I've been working on getting everything back on track."

Boland pinched the bridge of his nose. "How, exactly?"

"Well, for starters, the little hussy that got roughed up during your last go at the salon happens to be connected to the Sons of Anarchy. I've used that bit of information to divert the town's focus onto those damn bikers by inferring that the attacks are some sort of gang retaliation or initiation involving them. All I need to do is throw a little more grease on the fire and watch the town turn against the MC again. When that happens, I'll be ready to use that same stone to kill me another bird."

"And what bird is that?" Leonard inquired skeptically.

"Well, the salon, of course!" Hale cut loose with a belly laugh. "While the town's busy blaming the Sons for shit happening in their town once again, my new hire will work to finally put an end to that salon. My contacts have once again come through and have put me in touch with an ex-fireman whose pretty good at making electrical fires happen. If it's done just right, not only will I clear out the shop, but the other two businesses we already own on that block as well. We can collect on the insurance money and maybe even sue the owners of the salon for the shoddy electrical work they had done on their property, which just might put even more pressure on them to sell."

Leonard looked down at the confident man as he smoked his cigar. "Arson? Are you fucking serious?"

Jacob nodded as he waved away Boland's look of apprehension. "Why are you looking at me like the restaurant at the Four Seasons is out of your favorite pinot noir? There is absolutely no need to worry. The guy's a pro and unlike the last job you did on the salon, no one is going to get hurt. Once the dust settles and the smoke clears, pun most certainly intended, the owners will have no choice but to sell." Hale explained as if discussing their last golf outing together. "Granted, we will have to abstain from buying any more properties for the time being, give the town a little time to settle back into their pedestrian little lives, but that will take no more than six months I'm sure. Then you can get back to doing what you do best, which is buying up the rest of these properties below market value." Jacob smiled. "Come on, Leo. The plan is still a good one. Do you really want to throw this deal and all the money that comes with it away?" He carefully watched the man's face as he considered his words.

Hale wasn't overly concerned about the seriousness of Boland's threat to pull out of the deal. Leonard Boland was a follower and that was exactly what Hale had been counting on when he approached him about joining him on this scheme. He knew the time would eventually come when Boland got cold feet, but Jacob Hale had all his ducks in a row. Besides, Leonard loved money and the prestige that came with it too much to just walk away from the mother of all paydays.

 _Five percent_ _of a $150 million project is way too big a fuckin' carrot for Leo not to follow_ , Jacob thought as he watched his partner. _There's no way Boland was going to walk away from a deal like this._

Nearly thirty minutes later, Jacob jovially escorted Leonard out of his office and watched as he headed towards his sports car parked at the curb. As predicted, it had taken Boland all of five minutes to make the only decision he could, which was to stay in on the deal. They had spent the rest of the time talking about reconfiguring their plan going forward, including putting the final nail in the Charming Gardens coffin. This would require the greasing of more palms on the City Council as well as a variety of other under-the-table deals that would need to happen before they restarted buying properties south of Main Street.

Jacob smiled as he returned to his office. Now that the situation was under control once again, all that was needed was patience for his plans to finally bear fruit.

 _By the time everything is said and done, I will have brought Charming into the new Millennium_ , Hale smiled to himself as he imagined how proud Big Dan Hale would be of his accomplishments.

Jacob Hale had absolutely no idea just how wrong he was on all counts.

* * *

Sheriff Eli Roosevelt sat quietly in the chair behind his desk as he stared at the man sitting across from him. The last thing he had expected to find when he walked into the station house this morning was the businessman he had spent the last two weeks trying to track down. Pacing the length of Roosevelt's rather small office while he waited for the Sheriff to arrive had been Leonard Boland, sporting a ticking political time bomb in the breast pocket of his European-tailored suit.

Since the violent attack against Fawn Trager and the near destruction of both _Take Five_ and _Stems and Bulbs_ , Roosevelt had been doing much of the legwork himself in following all leads in connection to Don Forsyth and the firm he worked for, Boland-Howard Economic Development Corporation. It soon became clear to Roosevelt that he might as well have been trying to track down Big Foot for all the luck he was having. At least there were several reported sightings on the books when it came to the mythical Yeti. Don Forsyth, however, had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, as confirmed by the small and now-vacant two bedroom apartment in Stockton that was Forsyth's last known address.

After making numerous attempts at trying to reach the man's employer, Leonard Boland, Roosevelt had received a very brief phone call from Mr. Boland's attorney informing him that Don Forsyth was no longer an employee of Boland-Howard. When pressed to put him into contact with Mr. Boland, the attorney had huffed that he wasn't the man's secretary and didn't have access to his schedule. He suggested that Roosevelt try calling Mr. Boland in his office and hung up before the Sheriff could explain that he had done just that, at least ten times a day during the last two weeks with no luck.

So, understandably, finding the elusive Leonard Boland in the last place he would have thought to look—namely, the Morada sub-station in Charming—came as a bit of a shock to Eli Roosevelt.

Graciously apologizing for not being immediately available to meet with him, Boland had quickly settled himself into the chair opposite Roosevelt and confessed to having vital information concerning the recent attacks on Charming businesses. Donning the classic poker face, Roosevelt managed to hide his complete and utter amazement as sat back in his chair and listened to a recorded conversation between none other than Boland himself and the Mayor of Charming.

 _That weasely piece of shit_ , Roosevelt thought grimly as the pieces started falling into place.

Listening to the Mayor basically claiming responsibility for the raping and pillaging of Charming, it was clear that his actions had put into motion the series of events that nearly cost Fawn Trager her life. Roosevelt could almost see the arrogant and smug man patting himself on the back for saving the town from leather-clad biker thugs with one hand while handing it over to corporate thugs with the other.

If all went according to Jacob Hale's plan, the face of Charming would be completely unrecognizable in five years' time, a timetable that would allow him to reap the benefits of his corruption during his tenure as Mayor long after he had left office. According to the gaps filled in by Boland, the paper trail they had created by establishing Boland-Howard to conduct business would only lead to a trust account in the Cayman Islands under the direction of yet another phony company. Long story short, without Boland to provide evidence that corroborated the Mayor's recorded statements, it would be virtually impossible to connect Jacob Hale to the Charming land grab going on right under its citizens' noses.

"Well, Mr. Boland, I must say this is some truly explosive information you have come forward with." The Sheriff advised solemnly.

"It is and although my part in it was quite minor," Boland claimed sincerely, causing Roosevelt to raise an eyebrow. "I am extremely ashamed to be connected to it at all. It truly saddens me that a project that would have brought widespread prosperity to this town went on so wayward a course." He continued with what the Sheriff knew was false remorse.

"Oh, I'm sure you are very sad indeed." Roosevelt lied sympathetically, willing to bet his as-of-yet-born first child that Boland was turning on his partner to save his own neck somehow. "I'm afraid I'll have to take your cell phone into evidence." He said as he moved the mobile device out of Boland's reach.

"Of course, of course." Boland bobbed his head up and down.

Picking up the handset of his desk phone, Roosevelt punched in an extension.

" _Yes, L.T.?" Deputy Caine replied on the other end._

"Can you come into my office right now? And bring Martinez with you, please."

" _Right away."_

Roosevelt carefully hung up the receiver as his warm brown eyes met those of Boland. "My deputies will be right along to take that evidence from you."

"Excellent." Boland replied and suddenly cut loose with a huge sigh of relief. "To tell you the truth, I already know I'll be sleeping better now that this is all over. I would be really grateful if you would let the District Attorney know just how helpful I was."

Roosevelt cocked his head just as his office door opened to reveal his two deputies. He motioned for them to enter. "Oh really," He drawled. "In what way?"

Boland looked at the man quizzically. "Well, I followed their instructions down to the 'T'. I set up the meeting with Hale within the time frame requested, got him to talk openly about _his_ scheme and brought the proof directly to you, _just as I was instructed_. In fact, I think I was rather convincing in my attempt to get out of the whole mess. It certainly got the Mayor to open up about a whole slew of things, some of which I knew about and others I didn't, like his plan to burn down an entire block of commercial space. I believe that I more than fulfilled the terms of my deal with the DA above and beyond what was required." He said deprecatingly.

"Really?" Roosevelt paused for a beat. "And what deal would that be?"

For a moment, Boland was nonplussed. "My deal—the one that will give me complete immunity from prosecution for my participation in the Mayor's schemes."

Roosevelt then picked up the cell phone and handed it to Deputy Caine. "Again, I have to ask what deal are you talking about? I have no knowledge of any deal."

Boland's attitude quickly changed from the very soul of cooperation to an angry and somewhat frightened man. "What the fuck is this?!" He said angrily. "I have a deal for immunity, goddamn it! And I was instructed to bring the evidence to you because you would know how to proceed. I have—"

"No deal that I know of." Roosevelt cut in abruptly. "The fact is I have been in constant communication with the DA regarding this case since I launched an investigation into Boland-Howard's dealings in Charming two weeks ago. I do know of a deal in writing but it is reference to Confidential Informant No. 2-0-5-9-2 and to my knowledge, Mr. Boland, you are not CI No. 2-0-5-9-2. As a matter of fact, this CI has been working with the Sanwa Sheriff's Department and the District Attorney to expose the back door dealings and dirty politics of a large development scheme that has been underway in Charming." Roosevelt smiled at the look of dawning knowledge in Boland's eyes. "This CI has been quite helpful in providing us documentation concerning many real estate deals that have closed in Charming during the past year. But where this CI has come in particularly handy has been in providing information about the brutal attack on Fawn Trager and the vandalism of her business and that of my wife's."

 _Shit! That fuckin' piece of shit Dan Forsyth_ , Boland raged inwardly.

Roosevelt continued. "You see, Mr. Boland, with your hectic schedule keeping you conveniently elusive and unable to speak with me, I had no choice but to concentrate my investigative efforts elsewhere. So while the information you've provided—out of the goodness of your heart, of course—is staggering in its awesomeness, it's only a drop in the bucket of slime the DA has been able to cull from the CI." The Sheriff allowed a wicked smile to spread across his face. "However, I am curious, Mr. Boland. Just who exactly offered you this alleged deal? And more importantly, do you have it in writing?"

Boland's eyes darted from left to right as he tried to figure out what he should say. Instead, a ghostly and menacing voice reverberated in his head.

 _The only way you and your only son will walk away from this alive is if you comply with my instructions_ , Boland remembered the one with the blond goatee saying _. You get the information needed to put that piece of shit Hale where he belongs and not only do you come out of this a hero even, but you'll keep your freedom to enjoy all of this_ , the tall man's gesture encompassed not only the lavish surroundings of Leonard Boland's study, but the lifestyle he was more than accustomed to.

Boland moistened his lips as the full realization of how he had let his fear of dying stupidly convince him that he was being given an out by the two men who had entered his home under the cover of night. When he had pressed for the details of the deal he thought he was making, he was told to place his trust in Sheriff Roosevelt. Not only was he familiar with the matter, but he knew exactly what needed to happen. Only now did Boland realize that he had been played, the knowledge that those two unsavory-looking men looming over him couldn't possibly work for the DA's office dawning on him just a little too late. There had never been a deal for immunity on the table. The only deal Boland had made that night had been to spare him and his son their lives.

Boland raised his eyes to the man sitting across from him. "Are you going to read me my rights now? I have nothing more to say."

Roosevelt looked at the resigned face of a man who had quite literally fucked himself over and he was dumbstruck as to why. "Very well." He motioned to Officers Caine and Martinez. "Please escort Mr. Boland to booking and log that phone into evidence. I have a call to make to the DA." The Sheriff instructed as Caine took Boland by the arm when the dejected-looking man got up from his chair. "Oh, and don't forget to read him his rights." Eli called out after them as both officers escorted Leonard Boland out of his office.

 _I don't know what the fuck just happened here_ ,Roosevelt shook his head as he picked up the phone once again. _But when the whole town has seemingly gone bat-shit crazy, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?_

* * *

Eli Roosevelt had just settled into his most favorite chair in all of Charming. Getting worked over by a master made for an enjoyable twenty minutes, especially when Floyd the Barber was doing his thing. The Sheriff was in a very cheerful mood and he wanted to look especially good today. Only thirty minutes before he had received a phone call from the DA's office advising him that the warrants were a go.

It had been two long days since Eli had turned over the recorded evidence against Mayor Hale, along with his co-conspirator Leonard Boland, to the DA's office. The DA had taken charge of the case and had been working furiously with his prosecutors to make sure that the recording would be admissible in a court of law. Although any high-priced attorney worth his salt could probably make the argument to get the tape tossed out of evidence, all the DA needed was an indictment which would give them greater access to the Mayor's business files.

Leonard Boland had hoped to make a deal with the Sanwa DA after the fact, but found that the hardened attorney would give no quarter. Facing a heavy prison sentence, Boland was determined to not go down alone. Hoping that his further cooperation would garner him leniency at the time of his sentencing, and against the advice of his counsel, Boland named everyone he could that had been associated with the scheme in any way. This included the now-deceased drug dealer Digger, who Boland claimed had been hired by Mayor Hale to vandalize Fawn Trager's salon and his wife's flower shop. Since Ms. Trager had been unable to identify her attacker and with no other suspects, the DA had drawn the conclusion that Digger and his Merry, but Dead Band of Meth Heads had been the parties responsible, closing at least that part of their investigation.

In addition, Boland had also given the DA full access to all of his paper and electronic files. With quite possibly thousands of e-mails discussing the so-called Charming Heights scheme, this new evidence provided a wealth of information. Now sure that there would be no wiggle room for the Mayor and his associates, Renard James knew that the prosecution of dirty and corrupt politicians would easily ensure his re-election as District Attorney.

In preparation for several simultaneous raids that would culminate in the execution of numerous arrest warrants, Roosevelt had assembled a team of his best deputies. This select group of men and women would get to slap the handcuffs on the sure-to-be shocked and bewildered group of businessmen, politicians, civil servants and blue collar workers who had hitched their wagons to the Mayor's star.

Roosevelt and nine other officers would execute their warrants down in Town Hall where the Mayor was scheduled to speak before the City Council on his proposed imminent domain legislation in about half an hour. While the rest of his officers made similar arrests all over the county, Roosevelt would have the honor of dragging the Mayor out to his squad car. Eli could hardly wait to look Jacob Hale in the eye and finally show him the unabashed contempt he had developed for the man over the years.

As usual, there would be a couple of local reporters present. Those poor hacks who had drawn the short straw and got stuck covering boring City Council meetings were in for a surprise. Today they would have a far more interesting piece to submit to their respective editors. However, with the next issue hitting the stands in the morning as most of those newspapers were dailies, Eli decided to up the ante by arranging for some special live coverage as well.

_There's nothing like TV cameras to really get a party started._

Looking at his watch, Roosevelt realized that he had more than enough time for a hot shave. After all, he needed to look his best for the cameras. Without telling her why, he had asked Rita to set the DVR for the six o'clock news.

"I'm a little grisly around the edges today, Floyd." Roosevelt rubbed the scratchy growth on his chin. "How about a hot shave?"

"Absolutely, Lieutenant." Floyd smiled pleasantly as he flicked the cape around his client's neck away to get rid of the excess hair before he started on the Sheriff's face. The tinkling of the bell above the door signified that another customer had entered the shop. "Well, hey there, Jax." Floyd said casually as he eyed the man's reflection in the mirror in front of him. "And how are you doing today?"

Roosevelt raised his eyes as Jax Teller strolled inside. "I'm doing a'ight, Floyd. Yourself?"

"Still kicking and waiting for you to bring my favorite little girl in here for a visit. I haven't seen her in a good while."

Jax laughed. "I'll probably swing by with Maddy next week. My old lady's been complaining that TJ's starting to look like a sheepdog." Jax flashed a smile at Roosevelt. "Sheriff." He acknowledged with a nod of his head.

"Teller." Eli replied. "I don't think I've ever run into you in here before."

Taking a seat opposite Eli, Jax casually leaned back in the chair, his denim-clad legs spread far apart. "You know, I think you're right. I guess it's just a lucky coincidence that today would be the day, huh?"

"Really?" Roosevelt asked, his curiosity piqued. "And why is that?"

"Well," Jax drawled. "Today's Thursday and you usually see Floyd on Mondays."

The Sheriff quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. I never thought my grooming schedule would end up on the SAMCRO President's calendar." He said sardonically.

"You know what they say about small towns, Sheriff. Somewhere, somehow, somebody seems to know _everything_ that's going on." Jax replied as he absently toyed with his wedding ring. "I had a feeling I'd find you here, though. After all, it makes sense that you'd want to tighten everything up a bit, considering the big afternoon you have ahead of you."

Floyd, who had been working on the lather he was preparing in a bowl with a small brush, raised an eyebrow as he listened to the conversation of two of his favorite customers.

 _Sounds like young Teller has something to say_ , he thought with amusement.

 _What the fuck_ , Roosevelt thought as his eyes focused on a pair of knowing blue ones.

"You know something I don't?" Roosevelt asked, feigning ignorance.

"Now that's unlikely." Jax smiled. "I just wanted to be the first one to say congratulations, that's all. Wish I could be a fly on _that_ wall."

_Oh shit! He knows, but how the fuck?!_

"You know what, Floyd?" Suddenly, Jax stood up. "I shouldn't be in here talking up the Sheriff while you're waving around that straight razor. Wouldn't want him getting nicked. That kind of shit really blows up on HD TV. I'll swing back in an hour or so for a hot shave."

"Sure thing, Jax."

"I'll see you around," Jax directed at Roosevelt. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you to enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

Roosevelt pursed his lips as he watched Teller swagger out of the shop and towards his ride. Barely hearing Floyd's instructions to lean back, the Sheriff was far too busy pondering what the fuck had just happened to pay attention as Floyd liberally lathered his face.

It was obvious that Jax Teller knew about Mayor Hale's impending arrest, but how? The DA's office had kept a very tight lid on the investigation, going as far as keeping the identity of the Confidential Informant a closely guarded secret. The thought that the Sons somehow had a hand in making it all happen entered his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. Eli didn't even want to contemplate what their involvement could possibly mean, but he was sure that Teller had, in a ham-fisted kind of way, hinted that nothing happened in Charming without him knowing about it first. It was commonly known around town that there was no love lost between the Hales and SAMCRO and suddenly, the thought that the savvy, cunning and smart biker leader had a hand in getting rid of the political trash threatening their town didn't sound so far-fetched anymore.

Before he knew it, Floyd had finished the job. Examining himself in the mirror, Roosevelt had to admit that he looked good. He would definitely portray the stalwart and confident law man as he took the Mayor into custody. Paying Floyd and giving him a generous tip, Roosevelt made his way out of the shop and to his cruiser. There would be time later to speculate about the Sons. Now, he was on Charming business.

Getting into his car and making his way to Town Hall to meet up with his deputies, Roosevelt had one more thought before he put his game face on. If the Sons were indeed somehow involved in the downfall of Jacob Hale and his cohorts that meant he would have to give his relationship with the outlaw MC a serious re-evaluation. However, the thought of peacefully co-existing with the biker gang he had been brought into Charming to eradicate rubbed at the lawman's conscience the wrong way, but only just a little.

_Because what if they're not the blight on this town that I was led to believe?_

* * *

  
**CHARMING GAZETTE**   
**More Shocking Developments in the**   
**Charming Heights Scandal**   


Charming continues to be rocked to its core by the recent exposé of corruption and the commission of violence orchestrated by a direct descendant of one of the town's founding families and elected official, Mayor Jacob Hale Jr.

Only one week ago, Mayor Hale, the son of prominent Circuit Court Judge the Honorable Jacob R. Hale Sr., was arrested on allegations of conspiracy in connection with the break-ins and destruction of several local businesses over the past month. Earlier this week, Mayor Hale, along with his partners Leonard H. Boland and Leslie J. Howard of the Stockton-based firm Boland-Howard Economic Development Corporation, was indicted for conspiracy as well as other charges including corruption for allegedly bribing local political officials as well as conspiracy to commit aggravated assault and arson.

Since Hale's indictment, several more local officials have been arrested in a case that has exposed widespread corruption in San Joaquin County. Those arrested during a closed-door session at Town Hall on Monday night included Stephen Marks, Bradford Henderson and Doreen Samuels of the Charming City Council and the San Joaquin Zoning Commissioner Norman Scott. Ted Parks, a Building Inspector for the San Joaquin County Department of Public Works, and Bill Carson, a foreman for Oswald Construction, were taken into custody for questioning. Charges are currently pending.

In a joint press conference yesterday morning with the San Joaquin District Attorney's Office, Acting Mayor Elliot Oswald provided staggering details regarding the corruption allegation in connection with an under-the-table development project helmed by Mayor Hale. The need for copious amounts of land to initiate the project, estimated to be worth over $150 million, was the catalyst that led to recent acts of violence that nearly destroyed several Charming businesses and which left Fawn Trager, 29, owner and proprietor of the soon-to-open beauty salon _Take Five_ fighting for her life. Ms. Trager has since been released from St. Thomas Hospital and according to her business partners, Lexie Dawson and Tina Giamatti, is well on her way to a full recovery.

"The actions of Mayor Hale and his associates are without a doubt reprehensible," Elliott Oswald said to a throng of reporters and television media on the steps of Charming's Town Hall. "The secret redevelopment of six blocks on the southern end of Main Street was the first step of a three-part plan to build up the town's commercial infrastructure. Mayor Hale hoped that the proposed high-end Charming Heights Galleria Mall would attract franchises that would pump money into the economy and create the need for additional housing, laying the ground work for Jacob Hale's ambitious residential real estate projects.

"The second step was the closing of Charming Gardens, the 2-acre park in the middle of the business district, which was a gift to the town from my great-great grandfather, Robert Anderson Oswald. Upon examination of the town's finances it appears that the budget deficit that threatened to close the Gardens was fabricated by Mayor Hale in an attempt to make the land available for purchase by Boland-Howard, a shell company he had a hand in creating and operating. Our beautiful Gardens were to be destroyed in order to make room for a municipal parking lot, a necessary cog in the wheel that was Charming Heights Galleria Mall.

"I was shocked and truly dismayed to learn that the third phase of Mayor Hale's grandiose plan was to steal 230-acres of land that has been in the Oswald family for generations. Using money to influence and control several key members of the City Council as well as the Zoning Commissioner, Hale—under the guise of Boland-Howard—was planning on using imminent domain legislature to force my family to sell the land far below market value. He needed the land, you see, not for public works projects like highways or schools, but to create an exclusive gated community by building homes that very few residents currently living in Charming could afford."

The press conference concluded with a brief statement by District Attorney Renard James. Short on details as several more investigations were still pending, Mr. James advised that Jacob Hale Jr. and his co-conspirator Leonard Boland were facing at least 15 years in a federal prison if found guilty on all counts. When reached in his Chambers at the Stockton Criminal Courthouse, Judge Hale refused to comment on his son's pending case. Mayor Hale's brother David E. Hale, former Deputy Chief of the now-defunct Charming Police Department and current Captain of the Redmond Police Department in Washington State, could not be reached for comment.

* * *

Chuckling out loud, Fawn and Opie were comfortably ensconced in their bed with sections of the _Charming Gazette_ and _Stockton News_ spread out in front of them, the remains of a breakfast prepared by Ellie now lying at their feet. They weren't alone, however, as Mary sat in a brand new armchair by the bed and Ellie and Harry were spread out on the floor like when they were children. With Rocco enjoying a snooze in a pool of warm sunlight spilling into the room through an open window, the Winston clan was complete.

"I don't know about you, baby," Fawn started as she finished reading out loud excerpts from the huge front page article. "But I think this needs to be framed and hung up in the Chapel. That was some epic shit you pulled off."

Opie grinned at his old lady. "I wish I could take all the credit, but this was Jax's brainchild."

"Maybe, but Uncle Jax couldn't have pulled it off without his wingman." His daughter said loyally as she continued to peruse her copy of the paper.

"You got that shit right!" Harry agreed.

 _If they only knew_ , Opie thought as he shook his head wryly. _Jax had to drag my ass in kicking and screaming_.

After all, the thought of the Club collaborating with law enforcement had been a huge pill to swallow, especially for Opie and Tig, who wanted nothing less than Mayor Hale's head decorating the top of the fuckin' Reaper pole. It wasn't like SAMCRO to allow anyone that had crossed the Club to get away without some serious bloodletting first. Retaliation was the nature of the beast that was the MC. No one took a shit on them without SAMCRO getting justice their way in the end.

Making the call to unleash Mr. Mayhem on Chip Jr. had been a no-brainer. The little shit had signed his own death warrant the minute he had touched a hair on Fawn's head and NO ONE was going to talk Opie out of it. But the Club President drew the line at killing a whole slew of politicians. Jax had argued that he wasn't taking a soft position on this because he was weak, but because he was looking out for _all_ of his brothers.

 _Brains before bullets_ ,Jax had said tersely as he pointed to the mantra hanging on the Chapel wall to make his point.

The kind of heat the murder of the town's Mayor would bring to their doorstep would have been intense enough for every Club charter across the US to feel. The likelihood that it could have meant the end of the Sons of Anarchy was the only thing keeping Jax from making the call to rip Jacob Hale apart. If they couldn't him pay with his life for the events he had instigated against Fawn, SAMCRO would make sure Hale paid with his freedom.

It had taken Opie a minute to let common sense override his need for blood before he got onboard with Jax's plan. Almost never at odds with his best friend, Opie realized that his reservations about a non-violent course of action had to do with how deeply he had been affected by what had happened to his old lady. Losing Fawn like he had Donna would have been something Opie would have never recovered from and it had taken the combined efforts of both Clay and Jax to convince him to put his rage aside. Although it would prove difficult to execute, the plan would result in the well-deserved comeuppance for all those involved.

"Bro, I know you want nothing more than to deal Hale that killing blow," Jax had said soberly. "But what we have planned for him is far worse than killing him outright. A man like Jacob Hale won't survive prison intact." And after long contemplation, Opie had finally decided that Jax was right.

With Tig being the last hold-out, once everyone at the table was in agreement with the plan, the next step had been tracking down two minor players in the game—Don Forsyth and Samuel Boland. Neither had been easy to locate and it never ceased to amaze Jax just what Juice was capable of. After being fired by Leonard Boland, Don had relocated to Arizona. Boland's son Samuel had gone under in New York City and was staying with an uncle. Unfortunately, the two men had unwittingly relocated to States where the Sons had charters and it had been easy enough to keep eyes on them both.

Although Forsyth was still smarting over being fired, the Club had to do its part to "encourage" him to do the right thing. After an intense conversation, Forsyth decided it would be best to turn himself over to the District Attorney and cut a deal as a confidential informant. Although Forsyth's testimony would ultimately prove crucial, the DA told him that he needed material evidence that would make charges against the top-level conspirators stick, but which Forsyth didn't have access to.

Forsyth had relayed that bit of Intel to Jax and it was then that the Club had played its ace in the hole—Sam Boland—to suborn his father into giving them the Full Monty on Jacob Hale. Using a combination of verbal threats, psychological intimidation with a smattering of physical violence thrown in for good measure, Opie succeeded in getting Leonard Boland under the Club's thumb.

Boland had responded much like the coward Opie had him pegged to be. In fear of his life when faced by an unknown threat in his own home, when pressed, Boland had quickly confessed his part in coordinating the attacks. Insisting he was not a shot-caller but a glorified errand boy in an expensive designer suit, the older man wasted no time in throwing Jacob Hale under the bus as the mastermind of the whole convoluted scheme.

Pretty much what Jax had expected to hear, he had prepared Opie to broker a deal by which Boland would be able to not only save himself but his son as well. Given no room to maneuver, Boland had been given a tight 36-hour deadline to get the Mayor on tape talking about his plan to take over Charming before turning the evidence over to the proper authorities. Sheriff Roosevelt would not only provide him with protection, but would put Boland in contact with the DA to finalize his deal to turn rat and walk away. The deal, however, had an expiration date and Boland had only one opportunity to save his son. He wouldn't get another.

If he didn't come through, Opie had snarled as he tossed a stack of pictures on the man's desk, his son wouldn't make it to his 23rd birthday just a few days away. Boland's shaky hands fumbled through the photos in shock, seeing images of his son on a crowded New York street, in front of his brother's home on Long Island, and shoving a $50 bill into the G-string of a stripper as she shook her ass in his face.

Delirious with fear and probably a bit drunk too, Boland had agreed, quite foolishly believing that in exchange for volunteering this evidence, he would escape prosecution. Unfortunately, he had been dead wrong.

Aside from Don Forsyth and Leonard Boland, only one other outsider knew of the Club's manipulation and Elliot Oswald had been extremely grateful to be considered a friend of the Club. In spite of their outlaw reputation, Elliot believed that SAMCRO had done much good for the town as well as his own family's legacy. This time around, they had not only saved Charming from going corporate, but had stopped the former-Mayor from using imminent domain legislature to steal Elliot's land.

After several days in lock-up, Jacob Hale was back in Charming and under house arrest with a monitoring device attached to his ankle. His assets had been frozen and his passport seized. With Hale forced to resign, the remaining members of the City Council had asked Elliot to step in and finish his term as Mayor.

Opie wrapped a beefy arm around his woman. "While I am proud of our role in it, saving the town was just a happy by-product, babe. The truth is we did this for you because nobody fucks with my old lady."

Fawn's eyes were moist with emotion as she looked into the dark green eyes of the man she loved. She didn't believe that anyone could ever truly understand just how fiercely she loved her Redwood.

Once upon a time, he had been nothing more than a surly and unlovable beast of a man. Now, Opie Winston would forever be her Charming Outlaw.

"I love you, baby." Fawn whispered as she caressed his bearded cheek.

"And I love you, Big Red."

* * *

"I feel kinda bad that TJ ain't here." Maddy said as she dipped her spoon into a small mountain of Cookies-N-Cream ice cream. Taking the now-loaded spoon and swirling it into a river of chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she shoved it into her mouth with gusto. "He really would have liked this too, Papa." She managed around a mouthful of the frosty treat.

"Yeah, poor little cuss," Clay replied as he scooped up another bite. "But he wouldn't have been able to appreciate it, baby girl. Strep Throat ain't no joke."

Afterschool hours were usually the busiest time of day for the employees of Charming Dairy Works. Even with the slight nip in the air that had Maddy sporting her favorite denim jacket, the ice cream shop was packed with noisy youngsters of all ages as they crowded around the long counter, shouting orders as the parlor's harried staff tried to keep up. Located at the far end of Charming's downtown business district, the shop had been a popular local gathering place with the townsfolk for as long as anyone could remember.

The old fashioned ice cream parlor offered homemade frozen treats from ice cream to frozen yogurts and custards in a multitude of flavors, as well as custom-made ice cream cakes in any shape or size. Aside from his man cave, it was probably Clay Morrow's most favorite place to hang out with his grandkids. Lately, however, with Abel off doing whatever the hell it was that teenage boys did nowadays and with TJ unable to keep a secret from his doting mother, the former SAMCRO President enjoyed it best when he visited alone with his granddaughter. Although a chatterbox of epic proportions, Maddy Teller knew how to watch her Papa's back and kept their clandestine outings for an occasional but forbidden goodie to herself.

Sitting across from each other in one of the comfortable booths overlooking Main Street as they plowed through two oversized sundaes made Clay think of the good ol' days when he used to tie a feed bag on his own baby girl. Watching his small-framed granddaughter, dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt, blow curls from her mop of thick black hair away from her face as she devoured her treat with relish made his heart tighten in his chest. Spending time with Maddy was almost like watching Jolene grow up all over again.

After all of the drama that had hit the Club and the town sideways over the last month, Clay was glad shit was finally started to settle down. Being semi-retired hadn't prevented a lot of stress from landing on Clay's still-broad shoulders and he had figured that today had been as good a day as any to treat himself and his favorite sidekick to something special, especially since Gemma wasn't around.

Making secret runs into town for ice cream was not an easy feat for the old biker. Even though eight years had passed since his life-threatening accident had exposed just how shitty Clay's health had been, his old lady and daughter were still a force to be reckoned with when it came to keeping him on track with his diet. While he was sure that their loving concern bordered on tyranny, Clay knew that their vigilance with his health had added many more years to his life, years he was now able to dedicate to his old lady and grandchildren. However, every so often, the crafty outlaw still managed to indulge in some of his vices, particularly his love for the occasional Cohiba cigar and his once-a-month ice cream crime spree.

Quite unexpectedly, Clay had been given the opportunity to indulge on this particular weekday afternoon. With Jolene taking her youngest to an appointment with his pediatrician after work and Neeta still on a shopping run to see the German, a well-known butcher in Lodi, in order to restock the Tellers' freezer, it had been left up to Clay to pick Maddy up. Borrowing Gemma's Cadillac, he had swung by Charming Elementary School at 3:00 and coerced Maddy, who had needed very little by way of coaxing, to bump up the date of their next secret expedition, which in hindsight would not seem like such a great idea after all.

Clay had just taken a huge bite of his banana split sundae when Maddy started waving excitedly at the window from her seat. "Look, its Nana!"

Suddenly choking on his ice cream, Clay looked up and saw a pair of startled, but amused seafoam green eyes staring back at him through the window.

_SHIT!_

* * *

"I think you missed a spot." Tina said and coughed delicately to hide her amusement as she pointed to a streak of hot fudge sauce on the outlaw's scruffy chin. It didn't work, however, as her granddaughter giggled outright.

Tina was sitting next to Maddy in the booth, opposite her former lover and father of their daughter, as she absently stirred her glass of ice water with a straw. For a man who made it his life's mission to avoid the long arm of the law at all costs, busting him on an "illegal" ice cream run was somewhat hilarious, especially since it seemed that Clay would have preferred being carted off in handcuffs than being busted by Jolene. Having faced off with their daughter herself in the recent and distant past, Tina could hardly blame Clay.

With _Take Five's_ garbage pick up scheduled for later in the afternoon, Tina had been unable to park in the alleyway behind the salon. Instead, she parked her sporty car in the only available spot on the block in front of the ice cream parlor, which was directly across the street from _Take Five_. Totally engrossed in trying to dig the salon's keys out of her shoulder bag, Tina had stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and spotted two very familiar figures in the ice cream shop's window.

Although it warmed her heart to see her granddaughter, the last thing Tina wanted to do was encroach on Maddy's time with her grandfather. Somehow she and Clay had managed to find a way to co-exist in Charming and in the lives of Jolene and her children and she wanted to keep it that way. Finding her keys, Tina was about to dart across the street when Maddy looked out the window and started waving at her wildly. Although hesitant at first, Tina realized that she would be more than happy to drop in for a quick visit.

Thanks to the love they shared for their grandchildren, the former couple were enjoying a pleasant interaction with Maddy as the center of attention. Tina didn't know who she needed to thank, but it was safe to say that the three of them were in fact having a reasonably fun time together.

Reaching into the inside pocket of his kutte, Clay withdrew a blue bandana. About to wipe his mouth of the offending chocolate, Tina reached out, her hand stopping his. "No, you don't want to use that." She warned as she grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the table and handed it to Clay. "It's not a good idea leaving evidence of your fall from grace on your bandana for eagle eyes to spot."

"Good catch, Nana!" Maddy crowed as she scraped the bottom of her now-empty dish, wondering if she could convince her grandfather to spring for another sundae. "You would have made a good old lady."

"Oh," Tina laughed as Clay coughed rather loudly into the napkin. "I don't know about that sweetheart." She replied pleasantly.

"So you're not gonna rat us out?" Clay asked nonchalantly.

"Cross my heart I won't." Tina promised as her bright eyes suddenly twinkled at him. "It's not really my place, Clay, but it has been my experience that keeping secrets can sometimes woefully backfire. You might want to consider that."

Clay nodded sagely. "I hear ya, but in this case, I think what baby girl doesn't know won't kill _me_ , so thanks for keeping this shit off her radar."

Maddy looked back and forth between her grandparents with wide and inquisitive eyes. It was a little strange seeing her Papa and her new Nana together with no G-Ma around.

Watching his granddaughter as her small head swung back and forth between the two of them, Clay raised an eyebrow. It was a little disconcerting having that penetrating aquamarine stare of hers aimed in his direction. "So whatcha thinking, Kid?"

Later he would wish that he had let well enough alone.

"Well, I was wondering, Papa. Why isn't _Nana_ your old lady?" Maddy asked candidly as Tina suddenly choked on the water she was in the middle of sipping.

"You are so like your mother." Clay lamented under his breath as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thick fingers. What was it with little girls and their ability to ask questions he was _never_ prepared to answer and sure as hell _never_ saw coming?

_And why the fuck isn't Bobby around anymore when I need him to save my ass?_

Tina, having recovered from her water-down-the-windpipe coughing fit, saw the apprehensive look Clay was shooting her way and realized he was lobbing the bomb off on her to handle. She had to navigate this very sticky territory carefully as Jolene had made it quite clear that her children did not need to know about the mess that had been her childhood and that included the unsavory relationship between Valentina and Clay.

"Well," Tina hedged as she noted her granddaughter's gimlet stare. "Your Papa and I decided a long time ago that we weren't really suited for one another." She replied weakly.

"What does that mean?"

Seeing Tina flail around for an answer, Clay figured he needed to man up and try to give her a little help. "It means," He broke in. "That we were more different than we were alike, causing some issues that we just couldn't work out. Isn't that right, Tina?"

Tina nodded quickly, grateful for the reprieve. "That's right. In the end, we agreed that it would be best for your mother to live here in Charming with your Papa. Eventually, he married your grandma, who he obviously loves very much and, now that I'm in Charming and can get to know you and your brothers better, it all worked out for the absolute best. Does that answer your question, sweetheart?"

Maddy took a moment to consider and then nodded. "I guess it does, even though it would have been nice having you around a lot sooner."

"Yes, it would have," Tina replied softly as she ran her hand through Maddy's curls. "But I sure am glad to be here right now."

Maddy beamed happily from Tina to Clay. "And you're glad that Nana is here now too, right, Papa?" She asked hopefully.

For a long moment, Clay didn't know how to respond. In spite of the havoc Tina's sudden reappearance in their lives had caused, it had become increasingly clear to Clay just how necessary it had been for Jolene to get some closure with regards to her early childhood with her mother. Coming face to face with her birth mother after so many years had been a necessary evil and even vital to baby girl's emotional well-being. Although Clay knew he would always have lingering feelings of resentment towards Tina and the woman she used to be, he had come to the realization that Jolene's relationship with Tina wasn't about him. Because it was what Jolene needed and because he loved his daughter more than anything in this world, Clay had put his issues with Tina aside.

"Yeah," Clay was able to offer Maddy as well as Tina a genuine smile. "I guess I'm glad she's here too." He admitted.

"Well, doesn't that just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside?" A brittle voice interjected.

Looking up from the table, the intimate group stared at the intimidating figure of a clearly not happy Gemma Teller-Morrow.

* * *

"Are you okay, G-Ma?" Maddy inquired as she buckled herself in, the seat belt strapped across her small body.

"I'm fine, baby girl." Gemma smiled as she stuck her head through the open window of her Cadillac to kiss Maddy on the forehead. "Your Papa, not so much." She added ominously.

"Oh no," Maddy said, the worry on her face evident. "Is Papa gonna get in trouble for the ice cream?"

_He is up to his ass in trouble, little girl, but it has nothing to do with fuckin' ice cream!_

"Don't you worry about a thing, baby girl." Gemma replied reassuringly. Pulling her head out of the car, she rested one hand on the top of the parked car while resting the other on her hip. "I'll see _you_ later." And her fierce brown eyes promised Clay that their next meeting wouldn't be at all to his liking.

Not wanting to get his throat torn out in front of his only granddaughter and an ex-flame, Clay nodded at Tina as he headed around to the driver's side of his old lady's cage. "Uh, you have a good day, Tina." He said to the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk in front of the Dairy Works.

Slamming the door after sliding into the driver's seat, Clay quickly put the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. Looking through the rearview mirror, he watched with narrowed eyes as the two women turned to face one another. If Tig was to be believed, apparently Tina had recently proven that she could hold her own against the likes of Colleen Trager. Facing off against Gemma, however, might prove biting off more than Tina could chew. The only thing Clay knew for sure was that it didn't matter who was left standing. Either way, Jax was sure to blame _him_ for shit going south between his old lady's mother and his own.

So far, between Clay and his son-in-law, they had managed to keep Gemma in check since Tina had made her presence known not only in Charming, but in the lives of the people Gemma loved the most. If the daggers she was shooting at Tina were any indication, the tenuous hold Gemma had on her mud had suddenly slipped from her grasp after discovering the cozy trio in the ice cream parlor. Knowing that Maddy's presence was the only thing keeping the fur from flying, after a brief and stilted conversation, Clay had called an end to their impromptu meeting. If shit was gonna get twisted—and he knew that it would—he thought it best to get Maddy out of the line of fire because, if he knew his old lady, soon it wasn't going to matter who was around to witness the thrashing Tina was in for.

"That's old lady business," Clay muttered under his breath as he maneuvered the Caddy towards the garage. "Which makes it none of mine."

* * *

Watching the car containing her granddaughter and former lover as it retreated down the block and around the corner, Tina Giamatti stood patiently on the sidewalk as she eyed the furious woman standing opposite her. A fool could see the rage boiling underneath the surface of Gemma's icy exterior, and Tina was no fool. It was clear that the SAMCRO matriarch was beyond upset and Tina begrudgingly admitted to herself that she couldn't blame her one bit.

After all, during her many years of drug addiction, Tina had despised the woman who had replaced her in Clay's heart and had taken what she felt should have been her happily ever after. Even after getting sober—and knowing she had no one to blame but herself—Tina had still harbored feelings of resentment towards the Queen of the Bikers. Not only had Gemma been lucky enough to snag not one, but two SAMCRO Presidents for a husband, but by marrying Clay she also got the opportunity to be a mother to Jolene.

Although she knew that she more than deserved her hatred, Tina could see the fear underneath the sneer of contempt on Gemma's face. The woman was clearly afraid that Tina was positioning herself to take away all that mattered most to her in the world: her family. Little did Gemma know that Tina had long-ago reconciled herself with her past history with Clay and that, even though she envied the mother-daughter relationship Gemma shared with Jolene, she was grateful that Gemma had been there for the young woman when she herself couldn't.

Indeed, Tina was about to tell Gemma that she owed her a debt of gratitude that she could never repay and would never do so by usurping her role in the lives of the people they both loved. Unfortunately, Gemma opened her mouth first, effectively wiping away any desire Tina had of playing nice.

* * *

Gemma glared at the woman who had given birth to the daughter she had considered hers for over 25 years.

In recent years, the old biker's adage— _what happens on a run, stays on a run_ —had taken on a whole new meaning for Gemma. She no longer worried about her old man hitting sweetbutt pussy out on the road as it was more likely that he would hit every burger, steak and ice cream joint between Charming and every fuckin' charter on the West Coast. Catching him enjoying all the bad shit he had no right to be eating while in the company of the Seattle Whore, however, had set off all kinds of warning bells inside her head. Knowing Clay's history with the mother of his daughter, the sight of the two of them enjoying an afternoon get-together with Maddy had slammed Gemma with dread and insecurity, two feelings not at all common to a woman like her.

"You think you have everyone around here fooled, don't you? Tig, Opie, Fawn, _Jolene_. And now it looks like you've moved on to working your magic on my old man as well." Gemma started venomously.

Looking to smooth over the situation, Tina started with a placating voice, "Gemma, please—"

"Shut up, whore!" Gemma snapped angrily, forcing Tina to take a step back, not out of fear but surprise. "All I want to hear from you is what the fuck you were doing with my old man."

Tina had been biding her time in Charming, waiting for Gemma to make the first move that would allow them to come to some sort of understanding. Unlike how things had gone down with Colleen, Tina had hoped that they could be civil and dignified towards each other. That, of course, was before Gemma had opened her mouth _._

Bristling at being called a whore in the middle of Main Street on a busy weekday afternoon, Tina stepped down into the gutter and joined Gemma. "Well, I for one thought it was obvious that I was giving Clay a hand job under the table as Maddy told us about her day at school." She replied sarcastically. "What the fuck did you think I was doing?" She asked in an exasperated tone, a hand on a slender hip.

"You were with my old man and you shouldn't have been!" Gemma declared angrily.

"I was withClay _and_ our granddaughter," Tina replied hotly. "And that, Gemma, is something you better get used to."

"What?!"

"You heard me." Tina tossed her handbag into the passenger seat of her convertible. "I think its time we get matters straight between us. The time for this high school bullshit is over."

Gemma straightened to her full height and towered over Tina in her 4-inch boots. "The only thing _you_ need to get straight is the fact that you don't call the shots in this town."

"You're absolutely right. I don't," Tina agreed. "But as the SAMCRO Queen, Jolene _does_." She continued, forcing the satisfied smirk to quickly fall from Gemma's face. "What do you think her reaction would have been had we gone at each other's throats, fighting over territorial bullshit in front of our grandchildren?"

" _My_ grandchildren." Gemma challenged.

" _OUR_ grandchildren." Tina countered loudly. "Abel, Maddy and TJ have as much of _my blood_ running through their veins as they do yours and that is something that sooner or later you're going to have to get through your thick skull!" She exclaimed with confidence as she folded her arms under her heaving chest. "I'm not interested in forcing them to choose between us, not when they can have us _both_. A tug-o-war would only end up hurting the children and you wouldn't want Jolene to take it out on the instigator, which as of right now is _you_."

"Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?" Gemma was incredulous as she envisioned Tina lying in a pool of blood on the sidewalk.

Eyeing Gemma, Tina took note of the clenched fists at her sides. "If you're thinking about taking a swing at me right now, I seriously advise you against it. As much as you would like to see the inside of my skull spread out all over the sidewalk, one, I will hit you back." Tina warned. "And two, a brawl in the middle of Main Street will only bring us the wrong kind of attention, if you catch my drift." She discreetly nodded her head towards the police cruiser that was slowly crawling its way down the street, the two sheriffs sitting in the front casting suspicious looks in their direction. "I suggest we smile and wave like everything is fine." Putting her hand up to do just that, Tina flashed a brilliant smile and threw a flirty wink at the young officer sitting on the passenger side, who promptly flushed under his tanned skin. "Wave and smile, damn it!" Tina urged through gritted smiling teeth.

Rolling her eyes, the SAMCRO matriarch turned toward the street and grudgingly complied as she and Tina watched the cruiser continue down the street. "What? Is it suddenly illegal for two people to stand on the sidewalk and talk?"

"I guess someone must have thought that we were about to do more than just 'talk'." Tina replied drolly. The two women eyed each other before each cracked a smile.

Gemma sighed. "You know, I'm too fuckin' old for this shit. I left my cat fighting days behind me a long time ago."

"My point exactly." Tina breathed a sigh of relief. Walking over to her car, she leaned against it. It seemed that the brief po-po scare had given both women the chance for their tempers to cool down and Tina wasn't about to waste an opportunity. "Look," She began. "I have no delusions about us ever being able to get over our collective shit and I can accept that. If I were in your shoes, I'd probably feel the same way about me that you do and in my mind you have earned the right to be territorial about Jolene and her children. After all, you were the one who raised her. You're—" Tina moistened her lips to help her verbally acknowledge the truth. Looking into Gemma's dark eyes, Tina finally found the strength to say it out loud. "You're her mother and Jolene loves you unconditionally. It hurts, but I've accepted that I will never, _ever_ have that relationship with Jolene." Tina paused to see that she had Gemma's attention. "That being said, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. By some miracle, Jolene found it in her heart to give me a second chance and is allowing me to know my grandchildren. I don't want to fight with you over them and I certainly don't want to try to out-do you to win their affections. All I want is the opportunity to have them love me, if only a little bit."

Gemma crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're being sincere about this?"

"Of course." Tina quickly replied.

"Because the last thing I want is for those babies to get hurt, even if just a little bit."

"That's the last thing I want too."

"Hummph!" Gemma pursed her lips. "And what about my old man?"

"What about him?" Tina shrugged her shoulders. "I may not know much about Clay Morrow anymore, but I do know that he still despises me as much as he so obviously loves you and I am a-okay with that. But the fact remains that Clay and I share a daughter and grandchildren and there will be times that we're going to have to interact and be in each other's company, like what happened today. And because we do love Jolene and the kids, we have an unspoken agreement to be civil to each other. All I ask is that you and I do the same."

Gemma eyed the younger woman. She could see the earnest expression in her eyes and could hear it in her voice. Even with all her instincts at war in her head, Gemma had to admit that the woman was compelling. Shaking her head, Gemma chuckled to herself, recalling the number of face-offs she's had with Jolene over the years. Clay got a lot of credit for the strong woman he had raised and all of it was deserved, but Gemma had just witnessed shades of her daughter in Tina Giamatti.

Gemma rubbed the bridge of her nose as she contemplated the situation. _Maybe Neeta's right about me having nothing to worry about. My babies will always love me_.

Right now, however, giving her dear friend credit for something she had suggested months ago was a little too big of a pill to swallow. Gemma decided that for now, it was probably best to just retreat as she still had a lot of shit to think about.

Concerns for one member of her family in particular, however, could not wait. "And what about Tigger?" Gemma asked quietly.

Tina noted that even though Gemma had not acknowledged her call for a truce, she hadn't flat out turned it down either.

 _It's definitely a start_ , Tina smiled to herself.

Not wanting to set her off again, Tina tried to answer Gemma's question rationally. "What I have with Tig is really no one's concern but Tig's and mine. He's a grown man and can certainly handle his shit better than anyone I know. And you know that's the truth." She held her breath and waited for the next explosion.

"All right."

Tina blinked. "That's it?" She queried.

Gemma watched with a wry smile on her lips as Tina stared at her in disbelief. She tightened her grip on the designer bag that was hanging from her shoulder. "No. That's not all." Gemma slowly walked over until she was facing Tina. "Tig Trager may be a big boy, but he's still a part of my family. You fuck him up, even just a little and, Jolene or no Jolene, you will deal with me. Understand?" The former SAMCRO Queen's tone brooked no argument.

A pair of startling green eyes met the calm brown ones as Tina nodded. "Understood." She said simply.

"Good." Turning on her heel, Gemma walked down the block to her Suburban. Dumping her purse onto the passenger seat, she turned on the ignition. A sly, evil grin spread across her face as she noted the time on the dashboard. It was just going on 4:00.

_And with Clay getting home around six, I should have more than enough time to prepare for his reintroduction to tofu prison._


	39. Grand Opening

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

The day of the salon's grand opening was bright and clear. Despite the crisp chill in the air, it was a glorious November day. Every year starting in late-September, the landscape of Northern California underwent a radical change as its foliage erupted in a riot of fall colors. The densely wooded areas surrounding the foothills and valleys of the majestic Cascade Mountains transformed from the glossy and deep greens of summer into vibrant shades of gold, orange, red, and burnished copper signaling the full onset of autumn.

Nothing, however, could compare to the beauty of the wonderfully gigantic Redwood trees. With their colorful canopies reaching an average height of fifty feet in the air, the early morning sun transformed the ancient trees into tall lances tipped with red-gold fire. With winters in Seattle relatively mild, yet wet with very little by way of snow, fall had always been Fawn's most favorite time of year. The Emerald City was known for putting on quite a show when it came to making the switch from summer to fall. Having permanently relocated to NorCal, this would be the first time she would miss out on what had become a yearly ritual of trekking into the Seattle's Olympic Mountains to watch the sun rise over the trees during their peak.

A new life, Fawn had decided, meant the chance to begin new rituals with the man she loved. Happily, Opie had quickly obliged her request for a pre-dawn ride several days ago to see the rising sun brighten the sky before revealing all of nature's majesty. Knowing exactly where he wanted to take her, Fawn had clung to Opie's muscled mid-section as he made his way up the relatively low mountain range overlooking town. Packing one of his saddle bags with a thermos of coffee and a light breakfast, they sat on the side of the mountain. With Opie's arms wrapped protectively around Fawn as she leaned back into his warm chest, they watched as dawn broke over their little corner of the world known as Charming. It was an awesome sight to behold and there was no one in the world she had wanted to share it more with than her old man.

 _Then again_ , Fawn thought dreamily, _nothing quite beats the sight of my Redwood in the morning._

Lying on her side next to Opie, Fawn allowed her slender fingers to play with the strands of his recently cut reddish brown hair, letting them trail down to his very neat box beard before playing with the fine hairs on his bare chest as it slowly rose and fell with his deep breathing.

With so much occupying his mind and time during the past month, the last thing Opie had cared about was keeping up with his personal grooming routine. With life now steadily returning to normal, Opie had taken the initiative of going to Floyd's to get his beard under control once again only because he knew how much his old lady loved it that way. Fawn, however, had drawn the line at letting the barber anywhere near her Samson's locks. Thankfully, that had been something she managed to take care of on her own.

It had taken much pleading and whining, but Fawn had finally convinced her orthopedic doctor that 3½ weeks was more than enough time for her in a plaster cast. Although her arm was still in the process of healing, she was prepared to hack the cast off herself if he didn't agree because another three weeks of this and she would lose her mind. Dr. McDermott agreed to fit her with a soft cast only after a new set of x-rays confirmed that doing so would not hinder her recovery. The new cast gave Fawn a little more mobility, which was good because there was no way she would allow anyone near Opie's hair. Not even her dear friend and partner, who Fawn had pointedly told to fuck off after Lexie had teasingly volunteered.

Fawn hadn't been kidding when she told Jolene during their first lunch together that hair was a fetish of hers and Opie's silky strands had become a near-obsession.

After getting her plaster cast replaced by a soft one, the first item on Fawn's agenda had been to go home in order to tart up a bit for her old man. She was going to need all the ammunition in her sexy arsenal if she had any hope of dragging Ope away from the T-M lot and to the salon. She wanted him to be the first one to sit in her chair before _Take Five_ officially opened for business.

Although Opie had ulterior motives of his own—namely, getting her naked as soon as possible after a long day at the garage—Fawn was pleased by how quickly he had agreed. After all, the first time she had cut his hair, Fawn practically had to drag him off to his dorm kicking and screaming, and even then he had been a pain in the ass.

Once in the salon, however, Fawn quickly learned that Opie could still be a pain in the ass. Even though they were all alone, he had initially resisted her attempts to drape an oversized black cape across his front until Fawn agreed to flip it over, effectively hiding from view "Take Five" in a delicate pink script. He had also insisted on groping her every step of the way as she washed his hair one-handed, which made fighting him off a little difficult. Still, with his large frame laid back in one of the ultra modern shampoo chairs and his long tree trunk-like legs sprawled across the floor, Opie had looked so out of place that it had been downright adorable. Seeing him gamely deal with a situation that was clearly out of his comfort zone only confirmed to Fawn how much she loved him.

Grateful for his cooperation, Fawn prolonged the shampooing longer than necessary, if only to let him get his fill of playing with her tits through her shirt. Once she finally declared the process over, Fawn moved Opie to her work station, which she had recently stocked with all of her favorite products and outfitted with top of line tools of the trade. Even though her left hand wasn't her dominate one, cutting Opie's hair using only the fingertips of the hand with the broken wrist had been harder and had taken longer than Fawn had anticipated.

That had been two days ago and Fawn had spent the time between then and now working with Tina and Lexie on the finishing touches for the grand opening just a few hours away. With her nervous anxiety shifting into high gear, Fawn had been convinced that getting any sleep the night before the opening wasn't going to happen. It was during times like these that Fawn cursed her addictive personality. Otherwise, she would have been able to enjoy a leisurely drink like a normal person in order to relax a bit before bedtime. Fortunately, with alcohol or sleeping pills out of the question, Opie had stepped in and took care of her the way only her old man could.

Opie knew his old lady well. Very much Tig's daughter, Opie knew Fawn needed an outlet to exhaust her nervous energy. The SAA blew off steam by taking potshots at the Prospects with his Glock, making them run around like chickens without heads. Opie wasn't about to put a gun in his crazy old lady's hand without teaching her how to shoot first, so he did the next best thing to absorb her restless spirit. After forcing her to leave the salon early, Opie took her back to the Clubhouse where Bobby stuffed her with a couple of bowls of his chili. Barely giving her enough time to digest the delicious food, Opie called it an early night and had carried her off to his room where he proceeded to fuck her until she passed out from sheer exhaustion a few hours later.

 _It worked wonders,_ Fawn thought as she nuzzled her old man's hair.

 _It sure did_ , inner-Fawn agreed tiredly, forcing Fawn to yawn rather aggressively. _I think every day should be the grand opening of something if it means getting laid like that on the regular._

"Are you gonna play with my hair all morning?" Opie's voice was amused although still a little sleepy. "Or do you plan on playing with something else anytime soon?"

"How can I resist doing either when you look so damn hot?" Fawn purred as she looked into his green eyes which were now cracked open.

"Morning," Opie smiled up at her. Suddenly flipping onto his side, Opie wrapped an arm around her bare waist and pinned her legs to the bed with one of his. "How ya feeling?"

"Wonderfully sore, but incredibly well-rested, which I'm sure is exactly what you had hoped to accomplish last night."

"You know me so well." He grinned at her as she pulled him in for a soft kiss.

"Thanks, Ope." Fawn lovingly cupped his face. "The last thing I needed was to stay up all night second-guessing all the work we've done on the salon and thinking up million of ways the whole thing can go bust."

"That'll never happen, babe." Opie reassured her. "Your partners have faith in you. _I_ have faith in you. You just need to have some in yourself and your talent."

"You know, Redwood," Fawn started. "You're not perfect, not by a long shot and neither am I, but sometimes you know exactly what I need to hear to keep me going."

"Right back at you, babe." He whispered as he bumped noses with her.

 _She looks fuckin' awesome in the morning, even with bed head_ , Opie thought as he took in the tousled and fiery hair of his old lady and grinned at the sight of his crow tat on her upper arm. Using a large index finger, he traced the outline of his name as she smiled at him.

"Still kind of hard to believe?" She whispered back.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it is." Opie looked into her shining blue eyes. "For a long time, I was fortunate enough to share my life with a wonderful woman, but after she died I believed that was it for me. Lightning couldn't possibly strike twice, right? So I resigned myself to living a lonely life, especially after making some bad choices and nearly losing custody of my kids. That pretty much killed any desire I had of ever finding love again and for years, I was okay with that. Until I met your crazy ass—"

"Hey!" Fawn protested as she tweaked his nipple.

Opie winced, but laughed. "You know I'm not lying, babe."

Fawn rolled her eyes. "Maybe," She conceded. "But don't blame me. Blame genetics."

"Oh, I know," Opie said wryly, thinking of Tig and Colleen Trager. Trying to decipher which of Fawn's parents was nuttier was a moot point. "But I quickly realized that there's nothing wrong with your kind of crazy. Fawn, you stirred up feelings in me I didn't think I was capable of anymore. You made me feel shit I've never felt for anyone before you." He stopped to chuckle. "Shit, girl, the first time I met you, I didn't know if I wanted to fuck you or kill you _or_ fuck you and then kill you."

"Gee, thanks . . . I guess. The feeling was definitely mutual, Redwood." Fawn smirked as she traced the intricate "Redwood" tattoo on his upper arm. "My father was practically dead, yet when I first laid eyes on you, I was ready to let you jump on my ass right then and there had you offered."

"Really?" Opie laughed intrigued. "I couldn't tell with you so busy trying to shove your foot up my ass, and in front of my brothers no less."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't let you get all uppity by letting you know you had that affect on me." Fawn declared with a cheeky smile. "Besides, I kinda forgot Mom's warning about controlling my words, especially around a gang of knuckle-dragging bikers."

"What was that you just said about controlling your words?" Opie teased good-naturedly. "I bet you don't mind me acting like a cave man in the sack though."

"Oh no I don't and don't you dare change a thing." Fawn quickly agreed. "Besides, you should know by now that there's no filter between my brain and my mouth."

"Yeah, I do know. It irked the shit out of me sometimes, but I have to admit, it's one of the things I love most about you."

"Liar! There's nothing you love more than my ass." Fawn laughed.

"Oh, babe, your ass is in a class all by itself." Opie agreed with a smile. "I said your big mouth and inability to control it was _one_ of the things I love most." He corrected. "It gave you the courage to go toe-to-toe with me or anyone who got in the way of protecting Tigger."

Remembering the rough start of her relationship with Jolene, Fawn winced. "Eeek! I was a real fuckin' brat, wasn't I?"

"No," Opie replied genuinely. "You were protecting your family and that's what SAMCRO does. You did that for Ellie in—"

"A situation that will never be spoken of again." Fawn reminded him quietly.

Opie nodded and continued. "What you've done for Mary. Shit, I can't remember the last time I saw her so healthy and walking without a cane."

"She's a good woman, Ope, and I'm glad I could help her that way." Fawn smiled. "Mary looked after you and the kids during a rough patch and now that things are better, I want her sticking around so she can enjoy the good times as well."

Gently grabbing the hand with the soft cast, Opie kissed her fingertips. "And what you did for me, baby, you brought me back to life." He said with moist eyes. "You made me want to live again and I can't imagine my life without you. I just want you to know that. Your big day's finally here and I'm proud that I can be a part of it."

Fawn swiped at the tears that were suddenly running down her cheeks, knowing that whatever else was on tap for today, it would all pale in comparison to this moment with her old man.

"I love you, Big Red." Opie gently swept several strands of red from her face.

"I love you too, Redwood." Suddenly wrapping a long leg around him, Fawn pushed Opie onto his back and straddled him.

"Damn, woman! Don't you ever get enough?"

"I thought we already discussed this, Ope." Fawn said with mock-annoyance. "We Tragers don't know the meaning of self-control. Besides, we've yet to have a good day that didn't start with a great fuck and I can use all the luck I can get today." She said wickedly as she slowly lowered herself onto the body of her all-too ready and eager old man.

* * *

Fawn couldn't have hoped for a day with better weather had she bribed God for it.

It was close to noon and the warm sun was nearly at its apex in the bright blue sky. Wearing five-inch Gucci heels, Fawn had been on her feet for the last two hours as she coordinated with Tina, Lexie and Ellie to oversee a host of last minute details, including directing the caterers as they set up the bars and prepped food in the salon's kitchen and double-checking the placement of all the floral arrangements received from Rita's earlier that morning.

Fawn had been in constant go mode since enjoying the leisurely loving her old man had treated her to as a wake up call. Afterward, she had hastily gulped down a cup of black coffee before dashing out of the Clubhouse and heading back to the Winston home to shower and dress for her big day.

Now, standing in front of the salon wearing a form-fitting long-sleeved deep green blouse tucked into a long black leather skirt with a high slit, and a gold choker with matching earrings, Fawn looked around practically cheesing with excitement and happiness. Behind her, a tasteful "Grand Opening" sign hung directly above the double doors of the salon. Two silver and gold stanchions stood out in front with a beautiful red satin bow stretched between them and a 3-foot pair of silver scissors with _Take Five_ imprinted on one of the blades all set and ready for the ribbon cutting ceremony.

The sidewalk in front of the salon was crowded with guests who had received personal invitations to the event, including former clients of Gina's Cut-N-Curl, local business owners, members of the Chamber of Commerce, and Interim Mayor Elliot Oswald and his family, as well as the remaining members of City Council not involved with the recent scandal. Keeping everything orderly were half a dozen Sanwa deputies who were directing street and pedestrian traffic.

Thanks to Tina's exhaustive efforts to get the word out, there was also a huge media turnout. As a matter of fact, more than they had originally anticipated had started showing up early that morning, including crews for a local television current events program and a national cable news outlet. As proud as she was about their new business, Fawn was sure most of the unexpected press were here to capitalize on the story involving Jacob Hale, which was fine by her. After all, even bad publicity was known to be good for business.

In spite of all the potential new clients in the sea of well-wishers crowding the streets, it was seeing her SAMCRO family show up in full force that warmed her heart the most. Many of the old ladies, with daughters and other female family members in tow, were once again making the effort to show Fawn their support, but they weren't alone. Fawn had lost count of the number of kuttes she was seeing mingling among the throng of people.

"Are they _all_ SAMCRO?" Tina, who was standing at her side in front of the salon, marveled.

"No," Stunned, Fawn shook her head. "I've seen top rockers from Arizona, Nevada, Washington, Utah, and even a couple from New York." Worried that some other problem was brewing for the Club, Fawn turned to Tina for reassurance. "They can't all be in town for the opening of a _beauty shop_ , could they?"

"Of course they are!" Tig exclaimed as he snuck up behind the women and wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

Opie was right on his heels as he pulled out his camera phone and aimed it at the trio. "Say 'butt nugget'!" He quickly snapped several shots as his old lady laughed prettily at his demand.

"You made it, Dad." Fawn turned to face her father. "I was starting to get a little worried that you wouldn't." She admitted.

"What?! Get the fuck outta here." Tig kissed her on the forehead. "You know I wouldn't miss at least seeing you cut the ribbon, Fawnzy, especially not after Jax spread the word for other charters to come down and show support for my baby girl." He explained as Fawn's bright blue eyes widened in surprise.

"Actually, his old lady made the call. We just like letting Jax _think_ he's in charge." Opie teased. "Just don't expect too many members to venture inside, babe." He added as he pulled Fawn to his side and dropped a kiss on her lips.

"Hell's no." Tig agreed. "This shrine to vaginas is like kryptonite to those far less manly than SAMCRO. 'Sides, ain't too many brothers into that hoity-toity champagne and canapés shit you got brewing in there. Now, if you'd brought in some Cara Cara girls for entertainment and a few croweaters to sling beer and suck dick, you couldn't keep them bastards out." He suggested earnestly.

"Thanks, Martha Stewart. I appreciate the party-planning advice." Fawn said dryly as she eyed her crazy father. "If I ever open a strip club or a brothel, I'll remember to give your porn honeys a call."

Shrugging his shoulders, Tig grinned sheepishly at Tina who was looking up at him with a perfectly arched eyebrow. "I don't know what she's talking about, Doll. I ain't got no porn honeys." Turning his attention back to Fawn, Tig continued. "This is all nice and shit, Fawnzy, but most of the guys are heading back to the lot after you cut the ribbon. They know that the official SAMCRO grand opening bash ain't happening until later tonight at the Clubhouse."

Fawn looked into her father's eyes and behind all the levity and jokes she could see the pride he felt for her shine through. Colleen had called about an hour ago to wish her well. Although Fawn had been somewhat disappointed that her mother wouldn't be there for her, she had expected it and quickly got over it. Fawn had too much on her mind to dwell on Colleen's lack of support. Besides, having Tig there was more than enough to make up for Colleen's absence and in coming to that realization, Fawn had an epiphany.

_It will always be this way. Dad will always have my back and Mom, for whatever reason, won't. Only difference is that now I'm okay with that._

"Thanks, Dad." Fawn stepped up to Tig. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gave him a tight squeeze and a resounding kiss on his cheek.

"Hey!" Tig laughed, showing a bit of discomfort in his daughter's embrace, but secretly pleased. "What's up with all the mushy shit? This ain't like you, Fawnzy."

"No, this mushy shit ain't like _you_ , Tiggy," Fawn corrected as she pulled away. "But you better get used to it, you old fart." She threatened with a huge smile.

"Fawn! Tina!" An excited voice coming from the side called out. Lexie, with Ellie in her wake, approached the little group. "It's almost noon!" She said excitedly, practically bouncing on her toes.

"You ready, babe?" Opie asked as Fawn grabbed onto his hands and squeezed.

"I've been ready."

* * *

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the salon, Fawn allowed her eyes to pan over the suddenly subdued crowd. With both Lexie and Tina on either side of her, Fawn gathered her thoughts as several photographers busily snapped photos. Deemed the most outspoken of the three, she had been delegated the task of addressing their guests and what seemed to be the entire town of Charming. With her belly full of butterflies, Fawn locked eyes with her old man. It was Opie's knowing look that spoke volumes of the love he had for her that finally allowed her fear of public speaking to recede.

Introducing herself and her partners as the proud owners and operators of the _Take Five_ salon, Fawn went on to welcome and thank everyone for sharing with them one of the most important days of her life.

Smiling, Fawn continued. "I've been obsessed with hair for as long as I can remember. As a matter of fact, I think I can actually pinpoint when it all started for me. I must have been around five years old and I remember going to school for the first time and being teased mercilessly for being a ginger." She shook her head and winced a little at the memory. "Among other things, kids used to call me the devil's spawn because of my red hair. In hindsight, I guess it was a good thing most had never met my father or they'd have confirmation for sure, huh, Dad?" The crowd burst out laughing, with Tig laughing the loudest. "Anyway, I remember hating my own hair and becoming obsessed with other people's, especially my Dad's. It was thick and curly and the color of coal and I remember just loving to play with it. Even though he'd hurt my feelings by refusing to leave the house with pretty pink barrettes decorating his curls, my father always did what he could to support me.

"It was that encouragement and support that allowed me to turn an obsession into a career that I love and gave me the courage to start this new venture here in Charming. I know I've only been a resident for a short time, but I already love this small town with a big heart and it is our hope," Fawn said indicating Tina and Lexie. "To succeed here and that our success will encourage local mom-and-pop businesses to continue investing in Charming. For those that want to shop in malls or patronize franchises, there are many options to choose from, a lot of them right here in Sanwa County. But let's strive to make Charming the place people love coming to and enjoy spending their hard-earned money in. Just like the bigger towns, we are more than capable of providing the same types of goods and services at competitive prices. Unlike our corporate counterparts in bigger cities, we do it while offering friendly and welcoming one-on-one customer service, a staple which has long been absent from the service industry.

"It's our people that will keep our town moving forward and I speak from experience because I know that's what Charming has done for me. It—along with my extended family—has kept me going through the roughest of times. The outpouring of love and support we have received from our neighbors during the aftermath of several attacks on our salon, _Stems and Bulbs_ across the street and on me personally has been overwhelming. Charming truly takes care of its own and I am grateful to everyone who had a hand in bringing to justice those who tried to kill this town by attacking its family-owned businesses, the lifeblood and hope of Charming's continued economic growth."

Fawn held up her left arm in the soft cast. "I still have a couple of more weeks in this contraption, but we have plenty of staff on hand to see to the needs of Sanwa County and with the _Take Five Body Beautiful_ salon upstairs, we are prepared and eager to cater to all your of personal needs."

Picking up the large scissors, Fawn beamed at the audience and then motioned to her partners. "It's been a long road, but the time for talk is finally over and the time to get the party started is upon us. Thank you again and welcome to the grand opening of _Take Five_!"

Amidst the cheers and applause, the three women held onto the scissors and cut the ribbon, signifying the official opening of their collective dream.

* * *

The music piping throughout both floors of the salon through speakers hidden in the ceiling was loud and upbeat. As guests circulated and mingled, a video presentation of the renovation process created by Juice and Ellie as a joint project played on every flat screen TV.

Uniformed servers in white shirts and black slacks walked around with trays of pricey champagne, which Tina got a good deal on thanks to an introduction by Bobby to the Club's liquor supplier. In each of the far corners of the first floor, a small bar had been set up and stocked with premium liquors and a keg of beer for those whose tastes were less refined. Additional servers offered canapés and appetizers of bacon-wrapped shrimp, baby lamb chops, bite-sized BBQ ribs, beer-battered chicken wings, diced tomato, mozzarella and basil on toast points, and spicy avocado spring rolls.

The salon was packed on both floors as women and teenage girls alike ooh-ed and ahh-ed at the furnishings and décor and listened avidly as Fawn, Lexie and Tina detailed the vast array of services the salon now offered. The partners then watched with glee as their audience made a beeline over to Marcy and Ellie at reception, who were busy using the new reservation system to book appointments.

Fawn grinned as she noted the queue that had already formed at the front of the salon. "Shit, I really didn't expect people would start booking appointments during the actual opening. I thought most would just stop by for the free booze and food."

Standing next to her, Lexie was grinning like a mental patient. "It's fantastic is what it is. Did you know that the nail salon is practically booked up through the end of next week? Not to mention a huge number of bookings for massages and facials. I'm telling you, we're getting off to a great start."

"Thank God your mom is staying in town for now. With the holidays approaching, if today's any indication, we're gonna get slammed and we can use all experienced hands we can get." Fawn said.

Even as the two partners spoke, they looked across the salon to see Gina Rae Dawson being interviewed by several reporters for the _Charming Gazette_ and _Stockton News._ Wearing a navy blue dress and her pale-blonde hair pulled back in a sophisticated chignon, the 70-plus year old retired stylist looked elegant as she chatted comfortably with the press.

"I can't tell you how proud I am of my two girls and their wonderful partner, Tina. They took over my old shop and brought it into this century, haven't they? With them at the helm, I believe _Take Five_ will become the new Mecca to beauty in Sanwa County, a place where women of all ages, shapes and sizes come to when they want to feel beautiful and pampered and I want everyone to know all about it."

A young female reporter smiled as she pushed herself to the forefront. "And what are your thoughts on Charming's disgraced Mayor whose illegal activities almost derailed the opening of _Take Five_ and caused serious injury to Fawn Trager?"

Lexie and Fawn watched as Gina wrinkled her nose distastefully. "I'd really hate to be the one to bring down the joyful mood of the day by responding to that question," Gina started with faux-hesitance. " _But_ if forced to give my opinion, I would start out by saying that I lived in Charming for most of my life and I have known Jacob Hale since he was a young boy. Growing up, he was so unlike his dear, sweet-tempered younger brother David. He was a spoiled bully, of sorts, always accustomed to getting his own way. I knew he was trouble then and, well, what can I say? A leopard can't just wake up one day and decide to change his spots, now can he? However, I am not one bit surprised that he soon will be changing his designer duds for an orange jumpsuit. Although, I must say, orange is so totally not his color, don't you agree?" Those guests within earshot laughed uproariously.

Another reporter, this one male, asked, "With Mayor Hale under house arrest, any plans to stick around Charming long enough to see him in that orange jumpsuit when and if he's brought to justice for his alleged crimes?"

"I wish, but we all know how these things can drag on and on." Gina replied. "The plan right now is for me to stick around for about a month or so, until Fawn is back full throttle. Any longer than that and my poor husband will think I've finally left him for a younger man!"

Fawn snickered as she watched the older woman continue to deftly field questions. "Your Mom sure has them eating out of the palm of her hand. I'm so glad she's sticking around."

"Me too, even though she really tore me a new one for not telling her about all the shit we had raining down on us." Lexie replied. "I couldn't bring myself to tell her. Every other day it seemed like something else was going wrong and for a minute, I was really starting to doubt that we had the know-how to pull this off. It pissed me off to find out that Mayor Asshole had been using his cronies to screw us over all along."

Fawn's brow wrinkled in thought. "Yeah, he did, didn't he?"

Lexie's eyes widened. "I can see the wheels turning, Fawn. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that we need to talk to Ally Lowen." Fawn replied with a smile. "We invested a lot of time and money fixing electrical and water system problems that probably didn't even exist. Hale wanted us to bleed money, thinking we'd bail the second time Forsyth offered to buy us out. Not to mention the damage done to the salon when we turned him down—"

"And the damage done to you." Lexie added, her mind on the same track as Fawn's. "We should sue the bastard!"

"Oh, we will." Fawn declared. "Hale could be on the hook for at least six figures."

"Yeah, but with his criminal case pending, all his assets are frozen. It could take years before we see any money." Lexie reasoned.

"Hey," Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "I ain't going anywhere. You?"

"Nope!" Lexie laughed as they threw their arms around each other and hugged.

"You two seem pretty damn happy," Jolene Teller said as she walked up to them, flanked by Gemma and Neeta. "As you should be. This place is breathtaking. Congratulations."

"Thank you." Fawn said happily as she bent over to air-kiss Jolene, neither wanting to smudge the other's makeup. "It was touch and go for a while and I know I was pretty stubborn about asking for help in the beginning, but we wouldn't be here right now if not for SAMCRO and their kick-ass old lady brigade."

Jolene waved her away with a smile. "Family. It's what we do best."

"So, are you enjoying the party?" Fawn asked.

"I'm having a blast, especially since I didn't have to cook shit." Neeta replied, a champagne flute in one hand and a plate of hors d'oeuvres in the other. "I don't know about y'all, but this is some good stuff. It's nice that you've brought a touch of class to SAMCRO. All they ever drink is beer and hard liquor."

"Heifer, like you have a problem drinking liquor." Gemma retorted.

"I never said I did, bitch, but sometimes a woman likes to change it up a bit." Her friend shot back.

Jolene quickly moved to intervene in the sniping between them before it turned into a full blown argument. "Jesus Christ, can't I take you two anywhere without having to remind you every five minutes how to behave in public?" She rolled her eyes. "Barely been here an hour and already the champagne has gone to their heads."

Fawn laughed. "Then by all means, let's get some more food in their stomachs to soak it all up."

"Before we do that," Gemma countered. "How about you tell me when I'm getting my ass back in your chair? My gray is starting to show and I can't have that shit."

Fawn wrapped her injured arm around Gemma's slender shoulders as she fluffed and ran her fingers through her warm brown hair with her other hand. "You might be able to hold off for another three weeks, but if you're in a hurry, I can get Gina to work on you."

Gemma wrinkled her nose. "Maybe I'll just wait for you, then. Gina took care of me for years, but you know I can't stand all that clutter in her station."

Fawn's eyes widened slightly, but she made no outward comment. It seemed that the Dowager Queen had officially made the switch to Fawn as her personal stylist and, considering their ups and downs over the past few months, that was certainly more than enough to boost Fawn's ego.

* * *

Opie eyed his brothers with no little surprise as he knocked back his shot of Jack. The last thing he had expected was for SAMCRO to hang around the salon long after the ribbon-cutting or that, for the most part, they would keep their asses in check. After all, bikers and alcohol didn't always mix, especially when they were bored but, apparently, the wrath of Jolene Teller carried a lot of weight. No one wanted to take up residence on her bad side, especially her old man who had made attendance at the grand opening mandatory for SAMCRO and firmly "suggested" that the other charters send reps.

However, they as well as Opie had the good sense to stay out of everyone's way by huddling around one of two small bars that had been set up in the back. As the other guests floated around and mingled, they too had the good sense to keep their distance as well. Worried that the boys might feel isolated and forgotten, Tina had sent over a pretty blond server to make sure they had everything they needed. It had been a nice gesture, but after one too many filthy propositions had the young woman in fear of her virtue, Opie had taken pity on her and sent her away with the instruction to send a male server instead.

His brothers hadn't been too happy with him or the short and slightly balding male server that had replaced her, but at least the poor woman would no longer be in fear of being accosted.

"Dere was no need for such cock-blocking, Killjoy." Chibs complained. "The lil' lass was really nice to look at."

"Yeah," Happy replied as he sipped an ice cold beer which had been handed to him by the male bartender. "There ain't a whole lotta eye candy in this place."

Juice sighed as he rolled his eyes. "Really? We're in a beauty salon packed wall-to-wall with pussy, bro."

"Yeah, but the standard set by the caliber of pussy here might be a bit too high for Hap's tastes." Tiki started with a smile. "After all, this ain't the Jellybean with its wide assortment of horsemeat in G-strings."

"Wish it was." Happy muttered grumpily. "Only reason I'm hanging out is 'cause it's for Tigger's kid."

"Speaking of which, where is the Spawn of Satan?" Clay asked as he carefully nursed the second of the two beers that his old lady had graciously allowed him to enjoy that afternoon.

"Probably following Tina around like a dog in heat." Filthy Phil mostly muttered to himself. The group suddenly fell silent as they all turned and stared at him before bursting out with raucous roars of laughter that emanated throughout the back of the salon.

"Damn," Half Sack said. "It sure took long enough for someone with a pair of balls to finally bring that shit up."

"As opposed to what? Someone with just one ball in his nut sack?" Happy said gruffly.

Feeling somewhat neglected by his wingman, Happy wasn't in the mood for a discussion about Tig. With a Clubhouse full of free-range pussy, he couldn't understand what the hell was keeping his Unholy brother attached to the hip of just one bitch, even if she was the mother of his President's old lady, who in Hap's opinion was something else altogether.

Not that he was counting or anything, but it had been weeks since his partner-in-crime had joined him for some fun down at the Jellybean Lounge. It wasn't the same going there by without Tig and even though Happy and Chibs got along great and enjoyed hanging out together, the strippers could barely understand a word the Scot said. Having to translate for his brother every five minutes was more than a little irritating, especially if it interfered with the lap dance Happy was expecting would end with a blow job.

"It needs to be said. I never thought it would happen, but I think Tig has swallowed the hook," Tiki spoke up as he sipped on a shot of Jameson. "All Tina has to do now is reel him in."

"Tig?!" His father exclaimed. " _Our Tiggy?_ Nah!" Bobby waved him away. "If he heard ya, he'd flail ya."

"Oh, yeah, he would." Jax agreed with a smirk as he drank his beer. "Don't mean Tiki's not right."

"And fuck, who can blame him—well, aside from you, Hap." Juice conceded to Happy, who glared at him as his brothers chuckled. "I mean, Tina's a fuckin' MILF. Can't tell you how many times I walked out of her place after working on the salon's website with a chubby the size of Baja in my pants—" His voice trailed off as he saw the VP's grimfaced stare.

"Watch it, bro. That's my Momma T you're talking about." Opie warned as he eyed Juice.

"Aw, come on, Ope. Juice ain't saying nothing that none of us hasn't thought about before—well, aside from you, Hap." Tiki kidded.

"Ah, she gives you a MILF chubby too, eh?" Bobbing his head up and down, Juice grinned broadly at Tiki.

Tiki shook his head in confusion. "What? No, you douchebag! I'm saying that the fact that our brother-in-arms is smitten with Tina is an open secret, asshole."

"SMITTEN?!" Happy nearly hollered. "What the fuck? Did you all sprout pussies overnight or something? It's new pussy, for fuck's sake. That's all it is. It's like when some schmuck buys a new cage. They fall in love with that new car smell, but once it fades, it's just a car like any other."

"So let me see if I got this," Jax started, trying hard not to laugh. "What you're saying is that Tig's got a thing for new pussy smell and once it fades, he's done riding Tina?"

Clay pinched the bridge of his nose as his shoulders shook with laughter. "Judging by this conversation, it is my firm belief that mechanics should not philosophize about love or anything that requires thinking, for that matter. Jesus Christ! Have I got a fuckin' headache just listening to you all."

As everyone roared with laughter, Tiki decided to bite his tongue and let the subject of Tig and Tina die on the vine. He knew Tig well enough to know that his sponsor had probably been blindsided by his own feelings for Tina. She was indeed quite a lady and whether Tig acknowledged it or not, he was already under her thumb. Not hanging out with Happy at the Jellybean was just one of the many ways Tig had changed since hooking up with Tina. _Not_ hooking up with croweaters was another and Tiki, who had recently undergone similar changes of his own, knew all too well what that meant.

Tiki chuckled to himself as he rubbed his forehead. He found that lately he had a lot on his mind and became distracted quite easily. Like now as a certain willowy, dark-haired young beauty crossed the salon and into his line of sight. It had only been a couple of months since Tiki had crossed the line and had come close to doing all types of wrong with the VP's young daughter. Having done his best to stay away from her, it now felt like that night on the Winstons' doorstep had happened a lifetime ago.

Before he could stop his feet from propelling him forward, Tiki found himself hastily dropping his unfinished drink on the bar as he honed in on Ellie, who kept appearing and disappearing into the crowd mingling around reception. Finally catching up to her, Tiki took a deep breath and wondered just what the fuck he was doing.

"Hey," He started cautiously. "How's it going?"

Stopping dead in her tracks, Ellie turned at the sound of the familiar voice that never failed to give her delicious goosebumps and slammed Tiki with a hard look. "Oh, wow," She started, her beautifully manicured hand on a slender hip. "Look who's talking to me again. As a matter of fact, I didn't know you were actually even still in Charming. You've been MIA for so long, I thought my grandmother had chased you away for good."

Tiki chuckled a little self-consciously. "Mary didn't chase me away, Ellie." _The thought of what could happen between us did_ , he said to himself. "The Club's been keeping me busy—"

"Save it, Tiki." Ellie interrupted sharply. "I heard you and Grand Mary talking that night."

Tiki's hazel eyes bore into Ellie's blue-green glare as he ran a frustrated hand through his chin length hair. "You did, huh? Well, then you should understand why I've kept my distance, Little One."

Ellie shook her head. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Tiki."

Tiki smiled. "Trust me, Elle. I know."

Ellie felt her face flush under his intense scrutiny. If Tiki liked what he saw, and he probably did if the admiration glowing from his eyes was anything to go by, it wouldn't come as a complete surprise to her. After all, Ellie had gone through a lot of trouble getting ready for today. Sure, the grand opening was a special occasion in itself, but she had also known that Tiki would be there to show his support for Fawn. She had made the extra effort for him. But now that the festivities had started, she owed it to Fawn, Tina and Lexie to keep her head in the game.

"Look, Tiki. I'm really glad you're here. It's good seeing you again," She said sincerely, her voice softening. "But I'm a little busy right now."

Tiki shook his head. "I understand, Little One. I just wanted to say hi." _And against my better judgment, let you know that I'm still here, waiting for you_ , he thought but knew now wasn't the right time to say such things. "I'll see you at the Clubhouse later, right? At the party? Maybe we can talk then." Tiki offered.

Ellie felt a surge of butterflies take flight in her stomach. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded her head and smiled before turning and walking away.

* * *

Tig narrowed his eyes as he watched the flashy businessman step even closer into Tina's personal space.

He didn't like it.

The outlaw biker had made an excuse to hit the head to get away from his brothers in order to keep an eye on Tina. Very much like her daughter Jolene, she was a trouble magnet and seemed to draw people, men in particular, to her like a fuckin' moth to a flame. He could certainly understand now why Jax walked around with a perpetual scowl on his face whenever his old lady was in the vicinity of outsiders. Aside from his Club brothers, it seemed that every man in attendance had at one time or another introduced themselves to Tina, ostensibly to push up on her. The only thing keeping Tig from losing his shit was the fact that, even though Tina continued to smile while being charming and gracious, she still managed to keep the unwanted attention at arms length.

 _Except for that flashy prick with the big teeth_. Tig glared at the man who continued trying to wrap an arm around Tina's shoulders as they spoke in spite of the fact that she had already side-stepped him twice. _Maybe he needs a little help in getting the message_.

Determined to squash that shit and quick, Tig stalked over to the pair. Standing behind Tina, and with a maniacal grin on his face, Tig made an excruciatingly slow slashing motion with his thumb across his neck before pointing a menacing finger at the man. Tina's brow furrowed in confusion as she saw the look of abject terror flash across the face of Mr. Grabby Hands. Stammering hastily, the man excused himself before hauling ass as far away from Tina as humanly possible.

Tina chuckled as the man nearly ran face first into one of the glass doors on his way out of the salon. "Wonder what jumped up his ass." She said aloud.

"I did, Doll."

Tina nearly jumped out of her skin. Looking over her shoulder to see Tig's scowling visage bearing down on her, Tina turned around to face him. Getting a full load of the tall and imposing figure of the man dressed from head to toe in black, Tina smiled. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Tig shrugged his shoulders, his thumbs casually hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. "Sorry, but I couldn't tell from where I was standing."

"You're sorry?" Tina smirked. "Bloody unlikely."

"Maybe," He replied as he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, a large and rough hand landing securely right above her ass. "Maybe not."

"Ah, I get it." Tina cocked her head up at him. "You're pissing on me right now."

"What the fuck, T?" Tig asked confused. "That's bedroom-type shit, Doll."

Tina laughed prettily. "That wasn't a request, Tigger." She batted her eyelashes at him mischievously. "By laying that big beefy hand of yours on my ass, you're sending a message to every man within spitting distance and beyond that I'm off-limits."

 _Oh shit, I guess I am_.

Colleen's recent visit to Charming had been a mindfuck of epic proportions, forcing the SAA to see the mother of his girls in a different light. He had always known she was a gash, but finally faced with all Colleen had done to damage his relationship with Dawn and Fawn over the years made Tig realize that she was a greedy and duplicitous gash. Tig knew he had serious issues—some of them most likely of the mental variety—but he also knew that he loved his girls more than life itself. Now he wasn't too sure that Colleen had ever felt that kind of parental affection for their kids. As a matter of fact, Tig was sure she didn't. After all, what kind of mother would threaten to kill her own children if she didn't get her way?

Even after over 25 years of living apart, Tig had never seen the need to legally dissolve his marriage. Then again, no one had ever accused him of being the sharpest tool in the shed either and it had taken SAMCRO's father confessor to drive home some hard facts. According to Bobby, had he died during the barrage of bullets rained down on him by Russell Meineke all those months ago, with no will, everything Tig had—his pension, social security benefits, his house, even his fuckin' ride—would have ended up with Colleen as she was still legally his wife.

The thought had pissed him off a little, but before Tig could get on his bike and head to Oregon to rid himself of the extra baggage, Bobby managed to convince him to seek legal counsel instead. He was glad he had, too because Ally Lowen was one savvy bitch. With California typically being a community property state, the chance existed that he would have to split his assets, considered marital assets by the State, with Colleen 50/50. After doing some research, however, Lowen assured him that, taking Oregon law into consideration, it would be possible to file for a "no fault' divorce, which would allow him to keep most of his assets, even though he might have to split his military pension with her in the end.

Tig had thanked Lowen by handing her a $5000 cash retainer and asking her to get on it right away. This having nothing to do with the Club, he also asked that she keep the matter on the down low. As he made his way back to Charming, Tig hadn't really acknowledge _all_ of the reasons why getting out of his long-dead marriage was now so important, but as he stared down into Tina's knowing eyes, he inwardly acknowledged just how good he had become at lying to himself.

About to open his mouth and hope that whatever came out made some sort of sense without totally committing himself, Tig was suddenly interrupted.

"Ma cherie! Aren't you surprised to see me?!"

Tina whirled around and out of Tig's embrace. Practically screeching with joy, she ran into the outstretched arms of the Nordic god that was standing in the open doorway of the salon. Tig's eyes hardened dangerously as he saw the tall, slim man effortlessly sweep Tina off her feet. Wearing what appeared to be a winter white cashmere coat over a dark and exquisitely cut suit, the extremely handsome man with long blond hair and penetrating deep brown eyes, bent over to kiss Tina.

Not on the cheek, but quite intimately on her mouth.

Tig had never moved so fast to end up by Tina's side as she continued to giggle and hug the man who was obviously no stranger.

"T, who the fuck is this?" Tig did next to nothing to hide his incredulity.

The man lifted his head to look into the angry and deep blue eyes of a man dressed in sexy black. "Oh my," He replied in a languid and slightly accented tone. "Tina you _must_ introduce us."

Tina, first eyeing the man beside her and then peeping up to look at Tig, swallowed the sudden lump of laughter in her throat as she watched the two men face off. "Uh, Tig, this is Sasha. Sasha, this is Tig, Fawn's father. Sasha is the owner of _Flip It,_ the salon Fawn worked for in Seattle."

Sasha Fogeron ran his eyes up and down Tig's body like a search light. "My, my, they certainly breed them big and rough in Charming. Such a pleasure to finally meet Fawn's father." Sasha said ingratiatingly sweet as he held out a manicured hand.

Tig looked down at it before taking it in a painful grip, surprised that the man's eyes seemed to widen with what almost seemed like pleasure. He was so fixated on the fact that the man had practically bent Tina over and fucked her in front of everyone that Tig didn't pick up on the obvious vibe Sasha was sending his way.

Unfortunately, Tina did.

With her head bouncing back and forth between Tig and Sasha, her eyes narrowed with a purposeful glint as Tina realized that Sasha was about to venture where no man had ever gone before.

_Although with Tig you can never be quite sure._

Wrapping an arm around Tig's waist, Tina pulled his hand out of Sasha's grip. "Back off, Sasha dear. He's not your type."

"Dahling, _every_ man's my type," Sasha aimed an arched eyebrow at his missing-in-action salon manager. "But I never push where I'm not wanted."

"Yeah, right." Tina said with a scowl of her own, doing her best to smother her overwhelming jealousy.

Finally catching Sasha's drift, Tig considered plugging his fist into the man's too-pretty face, but restrained himself from ruining Fawnzy's big day. Besides, it looked as if Tina had shit under control. Tig grinned broadly as he looked at Tina, realizing that possessive jealously was just another thing they had in common.

_Shit, I'm so fucked._

"Humph! I'm starting to feel unwelcomed." Sasha pouted and seeing that, Tina finally relented.

"Oh, don't be such an ass. Fawn will be so happy to see you. She didn't think you'd be able to make it because of the beauty expo. Isn't it this weekend?"

"Oui, it is, ma cherie. With my best bitches here, however, I had to send my B-Team out there to set up. I thought to stop by for an hour or two to see what the big fuss is all about before heading to LA." Sasha drawled before casting a critical eye around the salon. "Hmmm, I must say that with Fawn involved I shouldn't be at all surprised that, from what I can see, this place is absolutely fabulous, dahling. I take full credit, of course, as only _my_ protégé would be capable of bringing some class to Shithole, California."

Tig, not knowing what to make of the flamboyant man, just stared at Sasha with wide eyes and his mouth agape. _Am I being fuckin' punked_? Tig thought irritated.

"Thanks, Sash. What can I say but that we did indeed learn from the best." Tina replied placatingly.

"Thank heavens it's finally over, no?" Sasha said with a dramatic eye roll. "Now you're free to come back to Seattle. I desperately need my right hand back at the salon, dahling. Marissa has been mediocre at best and certainly no substitute for you."

"Um, I—" Tina stammered, her eyes wide. The last thing she had expected was for Sasha to put her on the spot the moment he strolled into the salon.

The truth was that Tina had been postponing thinking about what she thought would be her inevitable return to Seattle. Aside from the few short years she got to enjoy with Frank, Tina couldn't remember a time in her life when everything was right in her world and that she had been genuinely happy.

 _Except here in Charming_ , Tina marveled to herself. _Of all the places in the world!_

Against her better judgment, Tina had put her life on hold in order to help the young woman she loved like a daughter achieve her dream. Considering the once-bad blood between her and a certain member of SAMCRO, Tina had taken a huge risk and had gambled with her life by coming to Charming. Instead of meeting a bloody demise, however, Tina was given the chance to make amends and was gifted with the chance to meet her grandchildren. Her life had once again changed radically and what she had waiting for her back in Seattle could never compare to what Tina had now.

 _Or to what I may have in the future_ , Tina thought. _But with Tig, who knows what that is_.

Fortunately for her, Tig chose that moment to set her mind at ease by giving her what she needed to hear.

"Well, I'm sorry, _Sash_ ," He said insincerely. "But you're gonna have to find yourself another Girl Friday. Tina's staying put right here. Ain't that right, Doll?" His tone and the hidden implication of his words were clear as he looked deeply into her green eyes.

Not breaking away from Tig's penetrating gaze, Tina licked her lips. "Yes, you're absolutely right, Tig." She started with a slight smile. "I'm sorry, Sasha, but I won't be going back. _This_ is home now."

" _Whaddaya tawkin' bout, biatch_?!" Sasha screeched, his Brooklyn accent firmly in place, as a number of guests stopped what they were doing to turn and gawk at the trio.

"Shit!" Tina grabbed him by the arm and headed for the elevator, motioning for Tig to follow them. "Come upstairs before you completely lose your manners along with your French accent. We can tell Fawn the good news together."

* * *

Fawn sighed happily as she stretched out next to her old man as they relaxed on one of the couches in the Clubhouse. Her feet, now blissfully bare, were being massaged by Opie's oversized hands as her flats—the only shoes she could stand to be in after almost twelve hours on her feet in high heels—lay carelessly on the ground.

"Ummm, feels so fuckin' good. Please don't stop, babe." She purred.

Opie grinned as he looked down at his old lady, her head thrown back against the couch's armrest and her half-hooded eyes fluttering in near-ecstasy. Arching her back like a graceful cat, Fawn was making sounds Opie usually heard only in their bedroom as he continued to rub her feet in deep, penetrating circles with the pads of his thumbs.

"My baby's pretty worn out, huh?" Opie said loud enough to be heard by Fawn over the din of exuberant party-goers who were drinking and carousing the night away.

"Yeah, but it was so worth it." She grinned triumphantly, her eyes still closed.

The grand opening of _Take Five_ could only be categorized as a roaring success. The six-hour event had seen a steady stream of visitors who stopped by not only to sample the free food and drinks, but to book hair appointments and spa treatments after touring the space. By the end of day, the salon was booked solid for the next month, with many clients booking appointments in advance of the upcoming holiday season as well.

Almost half-way through the event, Opie and his brothers had taken off after putting a sizeable dent in the food and booze, allowing Fawn to fully devote her time to promoting the salon. Fawn, Tina and Lexie had been run off their feet making sure they personally met and greeted everyone who had taken the time to come inside. To further promote the salon, Tina had suggested giving away several door prizes, such as five mini-spa packages which included a mani/pedi, a ten-minute neck and back massage and eyebrow waxing, as well as a raffle for other spa services, the grand prize of which was a full-day spa package won by one of Lexie's clients.

It wasn't until the last visitor was out the door sometime after 6:00 that the partners were able to finally sit on their asses to regroup while Jolene and Neeta directed the caterers as they broke down the food and bar stations. Soon after, an outsourced cleaning crew arrived to restore the salon to pristine order in preparation for its first official day of business the following day. Finally closing up, the three women headed home to glam up for the "after party" in their honor at the Clubhouse.

Always sober, Fawn had volunteered to be Lexie's designated driver for the evening's festivities. Remembering that her partner had drawn the short end of the stick and would have to open shop in the morning, Fawn lifted her head and scanned the room for Lexie as it was getting late. Smiling ruefully, Fawn spotted the young woman across the room holding a drink as she flirted with a Tacoma patch who had her pressed up against a wall. Or at least Fawn hoped that she was flirting as she noted a cross between desire and apprehension flash across Lexie's pretty face as she eyed the sexy and roguish blond, spiky-haired biker that towered over her.

Looking around, Fawn noted that the atmosphere had shifted and the party had become somewhat wilder now that the majority of old ladies had gone, seemingly replaced by a gaggle of hang-arounds and croweaters. Sitting up next to Opie, Fawn spotted Jax and Jolene coming from the direction of the dorms. In spite of the dimly lit Club, she could see from their rumpled clothing and bright eyes that the couple had spent some quality time being pleasantly distracted from their duties as the King and Queen of Charming.

"Uh-huh," Fawn folded her arms across her chest as Jax sat down in one of the large chairs next to them, pulling his old lady onto his lap. "I see you abandoned your post as Lex's guardian while I got my feet rubbed." She said to Jolene.

"Sure did," Jolene replied cheekily. "I had important business to discuss with easy rider here. Besides, I left her in good hands."

Opie chuckled. "Kozik? That's what you call leaving her in 'good hands', knucklehead?"

"All eight of them, it seems." Jax added as Jolene looked over her shoulder to see Lexie getting gleefully groped. "She ain't complaining, though."

"Holy shit, no! I wouldn't do that to poor Lexie." Jolene laughed. "I left her with Ellie."

Opie looked at Fawn with an arched eyebrow. "I'm not so drunk that I'm imagining shit. You heard me tell Ellie to go home with Mary an hour ago, right?"

Fawn nodded. "If she's still here, babe, I haven't seen her."

Opie called out to Darcy, Harry's favorite sweetbutt, who was giving the Prospect a hand by picking up empty beer bottles around the room. "Have you seen my kid?"

Darcy nodded, her pretty blonde waves bouncing on her shoulders. "Behind the bar." She indicated with a thumb.

"Not Shithead." Opie replied. "My other one, Ellie."

A hesitant look fluttered across Darcy's face, which did not go unnoticed by Fawn. "No, not recently." She replied as honestly as she could. It was never a good idea to lie to a patch.

Opie gave her a look as if he were waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he asked gruffly, " _When_ was the last time you saw her?"

"About an hour ago." Darcy answered honestly, praying that was the end of Opie's line of questioning.

Growing frustrated and feeling like he was pulling teeth, Opie decided to ask all his questions at once in hopes of getting a complete answer without going back and forth endlessly. "Where was she? Where was she going? What was she doing? And who was she with?" With any luck, Darcy had seen Ellie head out with Mary.

 _Damn it! Leave it to me to be the one forced to blow up a patch's spot, and to his VP no less_ , Darcy lamented to herself.

"I saw her out in the parking lot with Tiki about an hour ago. They were talking," She hesitated. Jolene and Fawn quickly exchanged wide-eyed looks. "It seemed pretty intense." Darcy finished, abruptly turning on her heel before more questions started flying.

Fawn nearly swallowed her tongue as she watched the pieces fall into place for her old man. She mentally slapped herself on the forehead for not broaching the subject of Tiki, his daughter and their interest in each other sooner. Although it had been weeks since Fawn had seen Ellie and her favorite biker in each other's company, she knew that didn't mean squat shit. After all, according to Jolene, she and Jax had managed to keep their shit on the down low for months until Jolene was of legal age.

"If they're out there," Opie started, his voice deceptively even and calm, as he pushed himself up from the couch and headed towards the Clubhouse door. "I'm gonna kill him."

"I'm going with him." Jax said, about to push Jolene off his lap. Call him a hypocrite, but if he was thinking what he thought Ope was thinking, Jax knew exactly where they could bury the body.

"No! Let me." Fawn exclaimed as she jumped up. Forgetting her shoes, she took off after Opie as he swiftly cut through the crowded Main Room. "No one's dying tonight."

Fawn came to a screeching halt as she practically slammed into the wall that was Opie's back right outside the Clubhouse door. It was almost two in the morning and the lot was overflowing with members from other charters and their bikes. In spite of the hour and the temperature dipping into the mid-40s, the music was blaring and the party was still going strong with revelers dancing, eating and drinking. The quarter moon was shining brightly in the clear midnight velvet sky and the drum fires that were burning and the grill that was still blazing cast an almost late in the day-type glow, making it easy to see clear across the parking lot—

To where Ellie and Tiki sat side-by-side on the hood of Clay's '85 Impala. With their heads down and slightly turned towards each other, they seemed to be engrossed in deep conversation.

"Redwood," Fawn started as she placed a hand on the sleeve of the leather jacket Opie wore under his kutte. Opie didn't respond, his dark green gaze still fixed on his daughter and her companion. "Everything okay?"

After a long moment, Opie shook his head ever-so slightly. "I'm not sure yet."

"Something you want to talk about?"

Turning his head to look down into Fawn's big blue eyes, Opie shook his head again. "I'm not sure yet." He repeated. This time, however, Fawn noted the tightness in his voice and the confusion in his eyes. "Look at them, babe. Tell me what you see when you look at them. Am I missing something?" He sounded lost and Fawn felt her heart tighten in her chest.

Looping her arm through his, Fawn stood at his side. Clasping his hand with her good one, she cocked her head and contemplated the young pair. She knew what she saw because she knew what was there. Fawn saw two young people, clearly interested in one another, getting to know each other. Nothing unseemly was going on as Tiki sat with his elbows on his knees and his fingers intertwined. Whatever Ellie was saying held him captive as he listened, his eyes following her hand as she tucked a strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear.

"I see," Fawn started confidently. "Ellie and Tiki, who have known each other since they were kids, talking." She looked up to find Opie staring at her intently. "What do you see, Ope, that has you threatening to kill Tiki out of the blue?"

"I see a grown man looking way too interested in my sixteen year old daughter." Opie replied, his jaw tight. "And I see my baby girl growing up too fast."

Fawn shrugged her shoulders. "I can see where you might be right on both counts, but this is Tiki we're talking about." She said adamantly. When she continued, Fawn let her voice drop so only Opie could hear. "The same Tiki that almost killed Chip when he showed up on the lot to get his car fixed."

"That doesn't mean he gets to treat my daughter like a sweetbutt." Opie said through gritted teeth.

"I agree," Fawn conceded. "But I'm sure if a sweetbutt was what Tiki's aiming for, he wouldn't have set his sights—and I'm not saying that he has—on a girl whose father could get away with killing him. Besides, Ellie's the type of girl that learns from her mistakes, Ope. I get that you may not trust Tiki, but you should at least trust in that."

"I do, babe. And I trust in Tiki, too. He wouldn't be wearing Club colors if I didn't." Opie replied honestly. "It's . . . it's just gonna take me a minute to accept that my little girl ain't so little anymore."

Fawn quirked an eyebrow at Opie. "So what are you saying, Redwood? If they just so happened to be interested in each other that way, you'd be okay with it?"

Opie looked at Fawn like she had just suddenly sprouted two extra heads. "Shit, babe, I didn't say all that. I'll still kick his fuckin' ass if it comes to that." He blustered. "Can we stop talking about this now?" Opie asked petulantly and without waiting for an answer or a change in conversation, turned and headed back inside.

Stunned, Fawn watched her old man beat a hasty retreat into the Clubhouse. Turning to where Ellie and Tiki still sat engrossed in their conversation—and oblivious to the fact that they had been the topic of her and Ope's—Fawn bit her lip in contemplation.

"Poor Redwood," Fawn shook her head with a smile as Tiki earnestly grasped Ellie's hand between both of his. "It will most definitely come to that."


	40. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Jolene and any other OCs that appear in the Jaxene Universe.**

* * *

_**Seven Months After the Grand Opening** _

It was a beautiful, although insanely hot Sunday afternoon in July. With temperatures pushing near the 100 degree mark, Ellie was quite grateful that she was inside and out of the scorching sun. Sitting quite comfortably on the huge bed in the Winstons' air-conditioned master bedroom, she carefully brushed the billowing skirt of her dress to make sure it didn't wrinkle.

It had been a pretty active week for Ellie and sitting down for the first time all day, she suddenly found herself very tired in spite of the fact that she was so excited. Leaning against the backboard of the bed, Ellie found her eyes drifting momentarily closed as she allowed herself to reminisce about the past several months.

Having recently purchased a new house not far from the Tellers, the Winston family had collectively moved on from their painful past. Although Donna Winston would forever live in their hearts, Fawn Trager and her beloved greyhound Rocco were now a wonderfully permanent addition to the Winston household, with Ellie's father keeping his old lady firmly under lock and key in their new home.

The house, a two-story home with three bedrooms also boasted a large parcel of land with a mother-in-law cottage. The cottage had one bedroom, bathroom, eat-in kitchen, living room and a patio. Separated from the Winston home by a short stone walkway through the backyard, Mary Winston was also now a permanent fixture in their household without having to give up her independence or comfort.

Finally, after six long years and many losses, the Winston family had come full circle and was now whole once again.

In the months since the Charming Heights scandal, the town had undergone significant changes of its own. Now that the case against Jacob Hale and his cronies was over, the town was finally beginning the process of putting the scandal behind them and moving on. Unfortunately, having been sentenced to twelve years in Stockton prison, the former Mayor would not be able to move on quite so easily. He first had to serve a minimum of four years before he was eligible for parole. Hale was already three months into his sentence even as his attorneys continued to aggressively appeal the decision.

For Leonard Boland, however, it seemed that his cooperation with the District Attorney finally paid off in the end. Still found guilty of numerous charges, DA James sought an only slightly lesser sentence of eight years, making Boland eligible for parole in 30 months. While their minor partner Leslie J. Howard, who had been living in Grand Cayman on an extended holiday, managed to dodge the most serious charges, he was found guilty of conspiracy and sentenced to four years in a minimum security prison. As for the rest of their co-conspirators, once the shock of having a fool-proof scheme blow up in their faces wore off, the disgraced City Council members had quickly moved to cut plea deals, with most avoiding any real jail time, but barred from running for public office ever again.

When the news broke, a party to end all parties had been thrown at the Clubhouse. Although she was kept sheltered from many aspects of Club life, Ellie was only too aware of the shit storm that had rained down on her father's old lady, all of it worthy of committing outright murder according to her twin Harry. She knew that on some level Opie regretted having his hands tied from unleashing outlaw justice on Jacob Hale and his associates for what they had done to Fawn, but Ellie was grateful that her father had restrained himself from earning a premier spot on death row.

Jacob Hale may have gotten away with having his life spared by the Club, but it gave Ellie immense pleasure to learn from Tiki that the former Mayor was having a very difficult time adjusting to prison life. Having reached out to some of his former cellmates, Big Otto had arranged for a "Welcome to Stockton" party for Hale. After spending his first four weeks behind bars in the infirmary recovering from reconstructive surgery on his face, Hale was held in protective custody until he had fully healed from the beating he had taken. Now, last that Tiki had heard, Jacob Hale Jr. was back in Gen Pop with the rest of the criminals he now had a lot more in common with.

In the wake of the sentencing, Fawn, Lexie and Tina had filed suit against the now-defunct Boland-Howard seeking a sum in the high six-figures for acts of sabotage instigated by Hale. These claims included damage done to the salon after renovations had been completed and personal injuries suffered by Fawn. Ally Lowen had been recently approached by the attorneys representing Hale's interests with a settlement offer. With Hale looking to avoid a long protracted trial that would bleed him dry through legal fees, the partners negotiated a settlement that would put a large dent in the debts incurred by the salon's renovation.

In the seven months since it had opened, the salon was doing brisk business, turning a profit almost immediately. Not only had they managed to attract a large number of new clients in Charming, but from the surrounding areas of Modesto and Lodi as well. Business was doing so well that once Gina had returned to her husband in Arizona, the need arose to hire more staff in order to meet the demand.

With the influx of new consumers drawn to Charming because of _Take Five_ , other businesses in the downtown area had seen an uptick in profits as well. As a result of the stream of new visitors to Charming, City Council had made room in the town's budget to give Main Street a face lift, including new and attractive street signage and the planting of even more trees and flowers to beautify the town.

With _Take Five_ a success, Ellie was spending much of her free time working at the salon after school and on weekends. It was clear that Fawn loved what she did and enjoyed every moment she spent working, no matter how exhausting it could get on most days. The enthusiasm with which Fawn approached every day and every new challenge was proving infectious and Ellie soon found herself considering following a similar path after high school.

In spite of all the ups and Tiki-related downs Ellie had experienced during the last six months, nothing had surprised her—or the rest of her SAMCRO family—more than Tig Trager's relationship with Tina. During the grand opening, Tina had made the rather unexpected announcement to her partners that she was accepting their offer for her to remain with _Take Five_ on a full-time basis. Later on, it was revealed to Ellie through Fawn that Tig, in not so many words, had asked Tina to stay in Charming.

Looking to set more permanent roots, Tina had approached Jolene and Jax to ask if they would consider selling her their old home. Jax, seeing the nervous hope in Tina's eyes, had withdrawn from the conversation in order to let the two women talk it out. Jax realized that the discussion between them would involve more than just finally getting rid of their first home, which after all these years still held painful memories for both Jax and Jolene. He would support his old lady in whatever decision Jolene made regarding not only their former home, but her birth mother as well.

Surprisingly, she agreed to sell Tina the house and unknown to Ellie, by doing so Jolene was finally letting go of a significant amount of pain caused not only by Jax's marriage to Wendy Case, but by her mother as well. All Ellie knew for sure was that the relationship between the two women had changed in recent months. Although Jolene would always consider Gemma her mother, she now considered Tina a friend.

Even though many had sworn that they would never live to see the day when Jolene would reconcile with her mother, it was Tig's relationship with the spunky and sexy Tina Giamatti that had everyone in the Club agog with shock. Recently, the SAA had announced that after months of back and forth, he had finally received a divorce from his long-estranged wife. The news, which Tig had casually dropped on his brothers during a poker game, quickly sent a ripple through the SAMCRO gossip mill. Everyone from members to their old ladies and hang-arounds to croweaters speculated as to why, after over 30-plus years, the crazy, tough and cynical biker would chose now to dump Colleen Trager.

According to what Tiki had shared with Ellie, all speculation would end when Tig finally and officially made Tina his old lady. It hadn't happened yet, but Tiki was sure it was just a matter of time.

Finding herself starting to drift into a deep sleep, Ellie was startled awake as Tina gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up, sweetheart. It's time for the big reveal."

Obediently standing up, Ellie made her way towards the opposite side of the bedroom and sat next to Fawn. Fighting back the sudden tears welling in her eyes, Ellie took a good look at the woman who would soon become an unbreakable part of the Winston family and sighed.

 _She looks beautiful_.

* * *

Fawn Marie Trager sat on the low, cushioned bench in front of the lighted mirror of the vanity as she contemplated her reflection. With Ellie sitting next to her, Fawn realized that the room had suddenly fallen deathly quiet as the women she considered her closest friends waited for her to render a verdict.

"Well!" Tina finally blurted out impatiently as Lexie stood at her side chewing her bottom lip anxiously. "What do you think?"

"I think," Fawn paused as she cocked her head from side to side. "That no one will be able to see the zombie I've become after two weeks of sleepless nights underneath all this make up. You two are fuckin' miracle workers and I'm so glad you work for _Take Five_ and not the competition." She smiled widely as she turned to face the room.

"Oh, stop," Mary said from across the room. "You'll never convince anyone that you're anything less than gorgeous under all that make-up, especially Ope."

"That is true," Jolene said from her perch on the edge of the bed. "But as long as Fawn's happy, all is right with the world. Today is not the day to have the spawn of Trager losing her shit."

 _No, it's not, but it's quite possible that you might end up seeing the contents of my stomach_ , Fawn thought.

 _Don't be such a baby. Everything's gonna be just fine_ , inner-Fawn advised. _Just think of it as a normal family Sunday dinner._

_Yeah right! Only difference is that before we can sit down to get our chow on, I have to get through my wedding ceremony first. Damn you, Redwood! How the hell did I let you talk me into this?_

_You know exactly how it happened. You let his cock do the talking so stop whining_ , inner-Fawn chastised _. Anyway, you love his crazy ass and it's about time you put Opie out of his misery._

 _Yeah, I do love him_ , Fawn agreed with a soft smile.

She especially loved her old man for knowing her well enough not to push her into getting married. Instead, Opie had spent the last seven months tenderly wooing her, showing Fawn how much he loved her and reminding her that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her every chance he got. The truth was, Opie hadn't really had to work that hard. There was no other man alive who had the ability to break down her defenses like Opie Winston.

Instead, her old man had worked his mojo by exercising perfect timing. A mere two weeks ago, while on a planned week-long vacation run to Arizona and Nevada, her gentle giant had chosen to broach the subject of marriage while watching a beautiful morning sunrise over the Grand Canyon. Pulling her onto his lap as he reached into his kutte, Opie had pulled out his grandmother's vintage diamond and platinum ring and asked Fawn to be his wife. Pinned to the spot by his soulful eyes brimming with love, Fawn couldn't—wouldn't—have said no even if someone had held a gun to her head.

She couldn't help the tears that had flowed as she wrapped her arms around him and they promised to love each other forever. Then, forgetting where they were, Opie had gently laid her out and made love to her. Afterwards, Fawn had been so giddy with love and excitement that she wanted to hop on her old man's bike and head straight to Las Vegas to tie the knot.

Fawn smiled wryly to herself as she recalled the argument that had ensued, almost bringing an end to the shortest engagement in history.

" _No, Big Red. We can't do that shit." Opie had said with his dark eyes fastened on the naked woman in his arms._

" _Why the hell not?" Fawn shot back. "The timing couldn't be more perfect, Ope. We're only hours away from Vegas. We can hit the first wedding chapel we see, no muss, no fuss, although, I must insist on being married by an Elvis impersonator. Then," She wriggled her eyebrows lasciviously. "You can spring for some fancy suite on the strip somewhere and we can spend the next three days fucking like monkeys. Sounds like a dream wedding to me."_

_But Opie wouldn't see it her way. "Babe, you are so not thinking right now."_

_Fawn sat up to straddle her old man. "What does that mean? I think I know my own mind, Ope. Probably better than you know yours. I thought a quickie wedding was right up your alley."_

" _You thought wrong." Opie corrected. "A long time ago, it would have been and it was, but not now."_

" _What? So now that I said yes, you're getting cold feet?" Fawn argued as she crossed her arms over her bare breasts and pouted. "What's the big deal?"_

_They continued back and forth until, as usual, they ended up shouting at the top of their lungs. Thanks to the echo, Fawn had no doubt that every tourist within a three mile radius had heard their first post-engagement fight. Opie had been tempted to shake her in order to get her to listen to where he was coming from, when the stubborn redhead finally calmed down enough to let him make his point._

" _Babe, I already went the quickie route when I married Donna. At the time, we were both young and stupid and I was afraid that her parents would somehow talk her out of it. We were on-again, off-again for so long, I thought the only way to put a stop to that shit was by rushing her pregnant ass off to Reno before she changed her mind. I never regretted marrying Donna the way I did, but in hindsight, I promised myself that if I ever got the chance to do it over again, I'd do things different." Opie explained earnestly. "The first step in doing things different was by not pressuring you into getting married. Moving to a new town and starting a business was enough for you to deal with without me trying to yank your ass down the aisle. I only asked now because I know we're both ready for this next step, baby, but I don't want to do it without my family there to see it._

" _This," Opie caressed her crow tat. "You're the only woman I've ever crowed, so in my heart we're already married, sweetheart, and if it were just us, we'd make record time to Vegas, I swear. But how do you think Ellie, Harry and Ma would feel if we got married without them there? Forget about Jax and Jolene, not to mention Momma T. If we did this shit without her, the next family event we'll attend is our own double funeral."_

It had been her old man's careful and thoughtful reasoning that had brought Fawn back to reality. The thought of eloping was romantic and exciting, but the last thing she wanted to do was alienate their kids, her father and their friends. However, although Fawn had agreed to a more traditional wedding—and who knew what qualified as traditional by biker standards—there was no way in hell she was going to allow it to become some long, drawn out affair. Fawn insisted stubbornly that the quicker, the better and seeing that he had her on board, Opie was quick to agree with her wishes.

Fawn had decided that she wanted something simple and just for the family and, with Opie's blessing, had set the date for a beautiful Sunday afternoon in two weeks' time. The ceremony would take place in the backyard of the Winstons' new home, which was large enough to hold a small wedding and host an intimate family dinner after. Soon, the girly-girl in Fawn took over and she quite happily got swept away by the excitement of planning her wedding with the women who meant most to her, Tina, Jolene and Ellie.

Planning a party was one thing. The thought that she and Opie were pressing their luck by making their union legal, however, kept Fawn up at night. Her parents' own failed marriage cast a very large shadow. But as much as Fawn loved Tig, she had to remind herself that even though he wasn't perfect, Opie was in no way like her father. Opie may be an outlaw biker, but behind closed doors he was her partner and she was his equal. Fawn loved him so much and so completely that she knew there would never be another man for her but him.

In hindsight, Fawn had grown to appreciate the impact Max had made on her life. In fact, she was truly grateful that Max had kept her waiting in the wings for all those years, never committing himself to her completely. If it hadn't been for her many years spent with Max, Fawn would have never learned to recognize the good, kind and loving man lurking underneath the beast Opie had become after losing Donna so tragically. Unlike what she had with Max, she and Opie had a solid relationship built on trust and love that would last despite difficult times, fading looks or outside forces that might try to interfere.

In the end, Fawn realized that she had no reason to fear ending up like her parents. It was her hope that she would be able to follow the good examples set by Gemma and Jolene in dealing with their tumultuous but very happy marriages to their own outlaws.

Fawn stood up and walked over to the full length mirror to see her reflection. The simple dress of cream silk was tasteful. With off the shoulder sleeves, the front of the bodice dipped into a V-neck to show off a generous expanse of cleavage without being vulgar. The A-line skirt of the gown stopped just above her ankles, revealing a pair of six-inch heels in the same hue. With the help of a couple of curling irons and a mass of pins, Lexie had pulled her hair up to the crown of her head as a riot of flame-colored spiral curls, decorated with ivory roses and baby's breath, spilled down her back and framed her heart-shaped face. Tina had expertly applied enough make up to make Fawn appear dewy and radiant without running the risk of having it slide of her face in a sweaty, oily mess in the July heat. Delicate silver jewelry completed the look.

"Opie won't be able to keep his tongue from rolling around on the floor when he sees you." Gemma said as she placed her hands on Fawn's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. "You look beautiful, baby." She grinned as she spotted Neeta sitting next to Jolene and wearing a dress of deep blue as she discreetly dabbed at her eyes with a white handkerchief.

"She does, doesn't she?" Ellie said softly as she came up beside Fawn. Sliding an arm around Fawn's waist, she looked into her eyes as a tear started to make its way down her cheek. "I'm so glad Dad is marrying you. You're already part of the family, so the ceremony is just a formality, but I need you to know that you're the best thing that's happened to us in a long time. You make Dad so happy and I will always love you for that." Ellie nearly whispered.

Seeing her soon to be daughter-in-law's eyes welling up with tears as Fawn hugged her granddaughter, Mary Winston marched over. "Oh no, you two. None of that nonsense. This family has shed enough tears. Today marks the beginning of a new era, so no crying before you tie the knot." She declared even as she sniffed rather loudly herself.

Mary knew from the day she sat in Fawn's chair to ask her for help with Ellie so long ago that everything would work itself out for the best. Although she felt entitled to a little credit for pushing the pair into each other's orbit, seeing her son finally happy and settled with the woman he loved was all Mary really needed by way of recognition. In light of Opie's devastating loss, it was more than anyone could have expected, but if Mary were honest with herself, she had known even before seeing the pair together that the fiery-tempered redhead was exactly what her stubborn son had needed.

 _After all, mother knows best_!

* * *

"Child, what am I going to do with you?" Neeta said with some exasperation as she fussed over her charge, trying in vain to keep Maddy still. "What did you do? Roll around in the dirt?"

 _Uh, yeah. How else am I gonna get out of doing this shit_? Maddy fought the urge to roll her eyes at the woman who was one of her most favorite people not related by blood. _After Harry, that is_.

The two of them were cloistered in what was the Winstons' downstairs power room. Maddy had found herself summarily dragged inside after Neeta had gotten a good look at her as she ran around the house with her best friend Mobi Harlan. Now, Neeta was expending much energy in trying to get rid of the worst of the grass stains and dirt that covered the mint green seersucker dress the young girl was wearing.

"I told your grandmomma this wasn't a good idea," Neeta muttered under her breath as she used a wash cloth to gingerly dab at the multitude of stains marring the dress. "Why she thought that you being a flower girl and wearing this get up was a good idea is beyond me. Like she don't know you, or something."

 _I'm right there with ya_ , the young girl agreed inwardly as she watched Neeta continue to fuss. _Standing here while you paw at me in this stupid get up_ _isn't my idea of a good time either._

Ordinarily, Maddy loved Sunday afternoons with her family. There was nothing like a big family get-together with large tables groaning under the weight of home cooking courtesy of the capable hands of the SAMCRO old ladies. But this Sunday's gathering was different and Maddy hated the fact that her opinion didn't matter and she had to endure being dragged into participating kicking and screaming.

The simple fact that anyone thought they could get away with putting her in a dress meant that no one knew her very well at all. _Getting dolled up ain't my shtick_ , she thought petulantly as she folded her arms across her small chest _._

In the nine years she had been alive, Maddy Teller couldn't recall the last time she had to endure wearing a dress. As evidenced by the albums full of baby pictures, the adult women in her life had only gotten away with that crap when she had been too young to defend herself. By the time Maddy had started walking and talking, she had been quite assertive about what she would and would not wear. Being a daddy's girl, Maddy wanted nothing more than to emulate her father in any way she could. It went without saying that would include copying his wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts as well because, as far as she could remember, Maddy had never seen her daddy wearing a dress!

Being _told_ by G-Ma that she was going to have to fall in line and wear a stupid dress to march down a stupid aisle holding a bunch of stupid flowers had been a very bitter pill to swallow. Unfortunately, throwing a major temper tantrum had only gotten her kicked off the lot by her grandmother, who had dropped her off at home where she spent the rest of the afternoon doing girly crap like baking and folding laundry with Neeta. Standing up for herself and sacrificing a day spent working in the garage with her father had been in vain as her mother wasted no time in telling Maddy she still had to endure flower girl hell.

However, it seemed that her family had forgotten that not only was she a Teller, but a Morrow as well. If there was anything that Maddy had learned from her Papa it was that it was always good to be resourceful and think outside the box. In particular, he had told her that most of the time, only suckers waited around for what they wanted to happen. If you were smart and considered all of your options as well as possible consequences, there was no rule against making shit happen yourself.

Although Maddy loved her Uncle Ope and admired his old lady as one pretty tough bitch, that still didn't justify slapping her ass in some stupid dress. She and Mobi had spent a considerable amount of time focusing on the problem at hand. Unfortunately, as much as she loved Mobi as a brother, he wasn't what Harry would call a "thinker". In other words, Mobi was sweet and lots of fun, but he was also as dumb as shit.

Deciding to air her grievances to Harry, however, had been a smart move. Not only wouldn't he rat her out like her brother Abel would, but he knew she'd find a way out of having to endure the dress without actually telling her what to do.

"You wouldn't be able to wear something that's unwearable, now would ya?" Harry had said knowingly.

In all fairness, Harry's statement had been a little vague, so Mobi had every right to be confused by it, but as she walked away in the offending dress, the idea behind Harry's words hit Maddy like a bolt of lightning. So now Maddy was doing her best to keep her secretive inward grin off her face as Neeta worked in vain to clean up the mess that she had deliberately, and with malicious forethought, made.

Finally, the older women threw her hands up in the air and tossed the rag in the sink in disgust. "I can't do anything with this shit. Not without dumping it in the washing machine, which is not going to happen with Fawn about ready to walk down the aisle."

 _Hot damn! Mission accomplished!_ Maddy nearly crowed aloud with glee but managed to keep the words from jumping off her tongue. However, although quite smart and canny for her age, Maddy had yet to master the fine art of the poker face and the barely hidden smirk was as plain as the freckles on her face.

Neeta fixed a stern eye on the young girl as she placed her hands on her hips. "And that was your plan all along, wasn't it? I should have known you'd find some way out of this shit."

Seeing the barely suppressed twinkle in Neeta's eye, Maddy realized that she might as well just cop to it. "Hey, I hadda do what I hadda do." She shrugged her shoulders impishly. "Maybe next time, someone will ask for my opinion first before they decide to play dress up with me. Besides, Mom should have known better than to let G-Ma put me in this get up, so in reality, it's more _Mom's_ fault than it is mine." She retorted.

"It's that kind of reasoning that let's me know you are definitely your mother's child," Neeta laughed. "But I'll be damned if I know what you're going to wear now."

"Oh, I got that covered," Maddy grinned hugely as she waved Neeta's concern away. "My backpack is in the van. I got a pair of jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt."

Neeta shook her head. "Oh well, I guess that'll have to do. You won't look as nice as Ellie walking down the aisle, but we can't help that now, can we?" She smirked as she saw a look of horror cross the child's face.

"Are you serious?! I still have to do this stupid mess?!" Maddy whined.

"Why not? It's not like your legs are broken." Neeta swallowed a large snort of laughter as she noted the cagey expression in the child's eyes.

_Oh shit, looks like she's actually considering that as an out._

Maddy stared with dismay at her friend. She simply had not foreseen this scenario. _How am I getting out of this now?_

Finally, Neeta couldn't hold back any more and a loud rollicking belly laugh burst forth. She laughed long and hard and had to sit down on the toilet seat before she finally managed to catch her breath. "I guess I better have pity on you before you decide to do something drastic, like jump out of the second floor window."

The girl focused her deep blue-green eyes on Neeta. "Ha, ha. That's really nice, messing with me like that. I thought you were my friend." She pouted her lips.

"I am, which is why I stuck it to you like I did. After all, what are friends for?" Neeta snarked as she stood up. "Now I suggest you run and get those rags and put them on before we head upstairs. Your grandmomma won't like it, but I'll try to smooth shit over for you. She's probably still in Fawn's room with the rest of them, so maybe with all those witnesses, she won't kill you."

Realizing she had Neeta on her side made the tightness surrounding Maddy's heart loosen considerably, allowing her natural exuberance and mild arrogance to shine through. "Don't worry. I'm her namesake. She loves me." She boasted as she made her way out of the bathroom.

_If I survive G-Ma's melt down, I can go tell Harry his advice worked._

Neeta watched and shook her head as the little girl bounced her way outside.

_That little girl is too damn smart for her own good._

* * *

"So you ready for this, old man?" Jax asked his best friend as they stood at the far end of the Winstons' backyard under a simple arbor of colorful and fragrant summer flowers.

"More than ready." Opie replied with a wide grin.

Today would be the second and last marriage for the outlaw biker. Although under a wholly different set of circumstances and in an entirely different venue, Opie was approaching his wedding to Fawn in the same frame of mind he had when he had married Donna. Unlike most of his brothers, Opie was the kind of man that thrived in a monogamous relationship with a woman. With the life he lived, having an old lady to come home to and to love was a necessity almost like air to him. With his first marriage, Opie had been deeply committed to Donna Lerner and knew that had she lived they would have had many happy years together. Losing her after only 12 years had been a devastating loss, one he thought he would never recover from.

Then he met Fawn Trager.

Although attracted to her from the moment their eyes had met in the halls of St. Thomas, Opie now understood that being gruff and sometimes downright mean to Fawn had been his way of protecting himself from the pain of losing someone again. Once they had set their petty bickering aside, the more they grew to know each other, the clearer it became to Opie that he was being blessed with the opportunity to find the second love of his life.

This time around, however, it was a different and more compelling love than his first because he was older and wiser. The love Opie had for Fawn was just as enduring if not more so because now he had a woman by his side that understood Club life and how important it was to him. Fawn was fully committed to supporting that part of his life that made him who he was, Opie Winston, Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy Redwood Original.

"It's really strange, bro." Opie confided in Jax. "Waiting for Donna, I felt like I wanted to puke my guts out."

Jax shrugged a shoulder. "That's 'cause you were afraid she was gonna bolt. You don't have to worry about that shit with Fawn."

"No, I don't," Opie agreed with a smile. "And I can't wait to restart my life with her."

"Good," Jax started with a teasing glint in his blue eyes. "Because Fawn's right off the crazy Trager family tree. That kind of crazy will never leave your ass."

"Hey! What's this? You talking shit about my kid?" Having made his way up the aisle, Tig stopped in front of his two brothers.

"It ain't shit if it's the truth, Tigger." Jax replied. Taking a step back, he took a good look at his SAA. "Damn! You looking pretty sharp there, huh?"

Tig shrugged his shoulders. "Eh, I didn't think I could improve upon perfection either, but Doll had a fit and insisted that I at least try." He replied airily as if it wasn't a big deal. "I have to admit, though, T has good taste when it comes to cufflinks."

Tina had mercilessly browbeaten Tig for days, trying to get him to concede to wearing under his kutte the expensive white tailored shirt she had brought for him. He would have fought against it a little harder had she not also given him a beautiful pair of custom-made sterling silver reaper cufflinks. However, Tig drew the line at wearing slacks. It was his kid's wedding after all, not a court hearing. With a pair of pressed black jeans and black leather boots he had polished to a military shine and his wild hair freshly cut and his facial hair neatly trimmed, Tig made quite an impressive picture.

"Well, bro, I ain't into all that fashionable shit at all, but even I have to admit," Jax started as he admired the cufflinks. "Tina has pretty good taste, which makes me wonder why the hell she puts up with your crazy ass." He joked.

"Same reason all broads do." Tig drawled. "I have a really big dick."

"Good to know 'cause I was starting to worry she might be back on drugs or something." Bobby Elvis said as he made his way up the aisle to join his brothers. "Now enough of this shit. I just got the signal, so you need to get your ass back to the house, Tigger. And due to an unexpected wardrobe malfunction," Bobby turned to Jax. "Your little girl won't be making her debut as flower girl today."

"Do I even wanna know what happened?" Jax asked with a snicker as he caught sight of a casually dressed Maddy running around on thin coltish legs with Rocco and Chopper, donning bow ties on their dog collars, chasing after her. _She's growing up and fast_ , Jax thought blankly and quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

"Wasn't able to catch all the deets from Kit over Gemma's hollering," Bobby started. "But I'm guessing Jolene Jr. figured a way out of having to wear a dress."

Jax furrowed his brow. If he knew his daughter, it probably involved a lot of dirt and maybe even some blood. "Hope Ma wasn't too hard on her." Jax said in defense of his little girl.

"When it comes to her grandkids, Gem's bark is worse than her bite, you know this." Bobby replied. "She's just getting crabby in her old age."

"Shit, Ma's always been crabby." Opie retorted with a smirk.

"There's crabby and then there's _Gemma-crabby._ " Bobby said pointedly. "Now, brothers, assume the position as the time has come to hitch this poor schmuck to his new ball and chain."

The pot-bellied biker waved Jax and Tig away and grinned to himself as Jax did his duty and encouraged the milling crowd of members and their families to take their seats. If someone had told Bobby Elvis 15 months ago that he would be officiating at Opie's wedding, he would have strongly advised them against hitting the bud before 9:00 a.m. as it was clearly having an affect on their brain cells.

But about a month ago during a run to the Las Vegas charter, an opportunity had presented itself for Bobby to make a couple of extra bucks as an Elvis impersonator. When one of his Las Vegas brothers jokingly suggested he add performing weddings to his act, Bobby had seen the wisdom of doing just that and had quickly gotten ordained by the Universal Church of Elvis. With the news that Opie and Fawn had decided to tie the knot, Bobby had been doubly pleased when they asked him to officiate at their wedding. It would be his very first wedding and Bobby was determined to do it in style, which was why he was wearing a powder blue sequined jumpsuit complete with cape and wide white belt, white ankle boots, rings on all his fingers—including the thumbs—gold and brown aviators, and a freshly-coiffed pompadour wig and sideburns.

Now as he stood with Opie, Bobby looked into the dissipating crowd to see Harry give Maddy's long braid of wild curls a gentle tug before directing her to take a seat. Bobby put two fingers between his lips and let out a sharp piercing whistle to get the attention of SAMCRO's newest patched member.

"Come on, Best Man!" Bobby called out to Harry. "It's time to take a stand with your old man so we can get this party started!"

* * *

With several guests spilling past him to grab their seats outside, Tig Trager waited rather impatiently in the foyer for his daughter to come down the stairs. The SAA had sadly and long ago resigned himself to never having the opportunity to walk one of his girls down the aisle. Now faced with the honor of doing just that, Tig wasn't so sure he was ready to "give" his Fawnzy away.

After being deprived of seeing Fawn and Dawn grow up and being estranged from Fawn for nearly two years, Tig had only recently gotten one of his daughters back. In hindsight, he actually owed that shithead Russell Meineke a debt of gratitude. Almost dying at the hands of that arrogant young prick had given Tig the opportunity to mend fences with Fawn. Tig was also grateful that by coming to Charming to be by his side during his darkest hour, his Fawnzy had also managed to fix his broken brother Opie.

Fawn Marie had always been special. Tig had known that since the day she was born with a scary looking mop of red hair that stuck out in every direction but down. He tried not to play favorites with his girls, but it was hard not to when his youngest's rambunctiousness reminded him so much of himself when he was a kid. Fawn had an unnatural talent for getting and staying on her mother's bad side from an early age, which bonded him even closer to his daughter. After all, there was nothing that Tig enjoyed more than pissing Colleen off.

Tapping his booted foot on the rough stone tiles at the foot of the stairs, Tig felt his blood boil at the mere thought of his ex-wife. With Ally Lowen playing hardball with Colleen, their divorce proceedings had been nothing if not contentious. By not getting everything she had demanded and felt entitled to, Tig couldn't really blame Coll' for her current animosity towards him. She could hate him with a passion all she wanted. He never expected anything less from the crazy red-headed cow, but accusing Fawnzy of taking his side in the divorce because of Tina had been a low blow to his kid. With Dawn of the opinion that Colleen had been entitled to much more than just his military pension, she had sided with her mother. Although he knew otherwise, Tig tried fooling himself into believing that Dawn's anger and indignation had nothing to do with the fact that she had learned about the money he had given Fawn to help out with the salon.

On the outs with two-thirds of her biological family, Fawn had sent invitations to her mother and her sister not really expecting that they would attend. In fact, they never even bothered to respond and even before this very moment, it was clear to both Tig and Fawn that they would be no-shows. It pissed Tig and Tina off to no end, but he had to admit that he was proud of his kid for taking it like a soldier. Fawnzy simply accepted it and moved on. In starting her new life with Opie, she had more important things to worry about.

"C'mon!" Tig bellowed up the stairs. "Whaddya doin' up there?! It's way past time to do this shit!"

"Keep your pants on, old man!" He heard Fawn shout at him from the upstairs landing. "I'll get down there when I damn well please! It's not like you can get started without me!"

Looking down at the time on his phone, Tig sighed with exasperation as he heard the clicking of high heels. _False alarm_ , Tig groused to himself as he looked up to see a horde of well-dressed broads, including Jolene, Gemma, Neeta, Mary, Tina and Ellie make their way down the stairs.

"What the fuck? Did someone open the door to a fuckin' clown car?" Tig complained as he used his index finger to loosen the tight collar of the dress shirt around his neck. "Where's the bride?"

"Oh hush," Tina shooed his hand away before smoothing down the collar. "Your beautiful daughter is worth the wait."

"Maybe, but this collar is choking the fuck out of me, T." Tig practically whined.

"Jesus, Tigger! Today ain't all about you, alright?" Fawn snarked from the top of the stairs. "Even though you are looking real good there. I wasn't expecting you to get all gussied up for me." She said quietly as she started to make her way down the stairs.

Tig's crazy blue eyes widened as he caught sight of his kid. _Stunning. That's the only word that can describe her right now_ , he thought with some wonder as Fawn crossed the foyer and stopped in front of him.

"Well," Tig started and stopped to clear the huge lump that had suddenly developed in his throat. "You clean up kinda nice too, Fawnzy." He said quietly.

Standing at his side, Tina smiled as she lovingly watched two of the dearest people in her life. Motioning to her daughter, Jolene quickly took the hint from Tina and herded everyone towards the kitchen and the doors leading to the back yard.

Tina squeezed Tig's arm gently. "You two need a minute. I'll see you outside real soon." She said before following the other women.

"So, come on, Dad. Tell me how you really think I look." Fawn's voice was small and a little breathless as she looked at her father expectantly.

Gently cupping her cheeks in his large hands, Tig kissed her on the forehead. "I think you look pretty damn good as far as bitches go."

Fawn rolled her eyes before laughing. "Gee, you sure do have a way with words, don't ya?"

Tig shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, you know I ain't into all that flowery shit," He complained. "But I do know what NeNe would say: 'Gurl, you rockin' the hell out that dress!'" He said with a snap of his ringed-fingers, his other hand resting on his hip.

Fawn looked at her father with wide, surprised eyes before they both burst out laughing. "You do that better than Sasha and, oh boy, if SAMCRO only knew about your secret obsession with the _Real Housewives of Atlanta_ , I think they'd strip you of your patch." She giggled.

"Hey, that's some father-daughter shit we agreed to keep just between us." Tig reminded her with little menace as he pointed a ringed index finger at Fawn.

"I know, damn it, but your imitation of NeNe is just too precious to keep to myself." Fawn argued.

"Daughters. Can't live with 'em. Can't snap their fuckin' necks like a twig either." He sighed with great exaggeration. Suddenly serious, Tig asked, "So you ready for this lifetime commitment shit? With Ope?"

Fawn nodded excitedly. "I'm so ready, I just wanna skip through this mess and get straight to all the sex I'm gonna have on the honeymoon." She smiled as her father took her arm and put it through the crook of his.

"Yep, you are _definitely_ my kid." Tig smiled back. "Let's go do this shit then."

* * *

Fawn was simply floored by how handsome her outlaw looked as he waited for her with Harry and Ellie at the end of the aisle. Wearing an off-white linen shirt under his kutte, dark wash jeans and boots, Opie looked big and strong and all kinds of manly gorgeous, making the fact that Bobby Munson was stealing his thunder quite unfair, but amazingly wonderful in its cheesiness.

When the sudden sparkle of something glittering in the sun caught her eye, Fawn barely managed to stifle the guffaw that nearly escaped her lips as sudden laughter erupted among those seated. Looking beyond the twin mountains that were Opie and his son, Fawn got a full load of Bobby Elvis in all his glory.

Coming to a stop before Bobby under the arch of flowers, Fawn stepped up and wrapped her arms around his neck for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "You look incredible!" She enthused happily.

"Right back at ya, lil' momma." Bobby said in his best Elvis voice with a little shake of his ample hips.

"Hey!" Opie complained with faux-indignation. "You're marrying me, not Fat Elvis over there."

"That's right, and no backsies!" Tig teased as he handed his daughter over to his Club brother.

As Fawn looked up at him with huge doe eyes, Opie felt as if he had just been slammed in the gut by how beautiful she looked. "I take it that Reverend Elvis was your idea." She smiled broadly at her old man.

Opie shrugged one shoulder. "You said you wanted to get married by an Elvis impersonator. We couldn't do Vegas, so all I did was bring Vegas to you, baby." He smiled.

Fawn brought the back of her hand up to her nose as she sucked back the tears already threatening to ruin her make up. Taking both of Opie's large hands into her dainty ones as they stared into each other's eyes, it was like no one else existed for Fawn except the love of her life standing before her.

"Looking back on my life, Redwood, especially this past year," Fawn dove right in. "I still can't believe that this is where I ended up. I have to keep telling myself that I'm not dreaming because right here is where I want to be, in this town, in this house with you and our family, for the rest of my life. And if by some cruel cosmic twist of fate this is all a dream, I don't ever want to wake up." She squeezed his hands tight. "I love you, Ope and whatever lies in wait for us tomorrow or in the future, nothing will ever mean more to me than that."

Opie's smile was crooked, yet endearing. "When I look into my future, Big Red, I only see you and the happiness you bring into my life." Cupping her cheek with one hand, he continued. "My painful past has been chased away by those crazy beautiful blue eyes of yours because I can see the love I have for you reflected right back at me. I am so lucky to have a smart, savvy, funny, and frustrating, but sexy as all-hell committed partner by my side. There's nothing that I want more than to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you and what you mean to me."

Putting his hands up and striking a very Elvis-like pose, Bobby started. "We have come together today to witness and celebrate the union of our brother Opie and his old lady Fawn in loving matrimony. Although they have already committed themselves to sharing a life together, the love and respect they have for each other has led them here today to publicly proclaim for all to hear that they have each found 'the one'." Looking from Opie to Fawn, Bobby Elvis put his hands down and addressed them directly. "Your journey through life together will be long and not always easy, but when you say to the other 'I love you,' remember that what you are saying is 'Your happiness is everything to me and I want only the best for you always.' When you say to the other 'I love you,' remember that what you are saying is 'I am part of you and you are part of me. Apart we just exist. Together we thrive.' When you say to the other 'I love you,' remember that what you are saying is 'Hold on tight, my love, for our journey has just begun'. The promises each of you will make today in front of your family and friends are not to be taken lightly. Do you enter into this lifelong commitment to each other eager and of your own free will?"

"We do." The couple responded in unison.

"Please face each other and join hands." Bobby directed as Fawn and Opie complied. "Opie, do you take Fawn to be your old lady? Do you promise to love and honor her? To listen and pay attention without making snarky comments during one of her marathon bitch sessions? To buy her feminine hygiene products without question or whining? And to stop visiting strip clubs on important anniversaries and holidays?"

Surprise laughter erupted from their seated guests, causing Opie to pause before responding with a cheeky smile, "I do."

"Fawn, do you take Opie to be your old man?" Bobby continued. "Do you promise to love and honor him? To keep holy 'Steak and Blow Job Day'? To wash his socks, relinquish the TV remote upon demand and keep his subscription to Horny Biker Grannies updated? And do you promise to put out whenever he desires it, even when he's being an asshole?"

To a smattering of applause and a chorus of wolf-whistles, Fawn chuckled as she responded, "I do."

Throwing his blue sequined cape over his shoulders with great flourish, Bobby dug his index and middle fingers into the small side pockets of his jumpsuit. Pulling out two shiny, yet classically simple platinum bands, Bobby held them up for the crowd. "These rings are precious metal, but they are made all the more precious because they represent the union of two hearts and two lives. With the giving and receiving of these rings, you are sealing the promises you have made to each other today. From now on, when you look at your hands, these rings will serve as a reminder to keep those promises daily so that they will always be a symbol of your love for each other." Placing one ring in the palm of Opie's hand and the other in Fawn's, Bobby continued. "Please say your vows as you place the ring on each other's fingers."

"From this day forward, Fawn, my heart will be your home and my arms your safe haven." Opie slipped the band onto Fawn's finger. "And with this ring, I'm letting all muthah fuckas know that you're mine forever!"

"From this day forward, Opie, my heart will be your home and my arms your safe haven." Fawn slipped an identical, though larger, band onto Opie's finger. "And with this ring, I'm letting all skanks know that you're mine forever!"

With the crowd suddenly on their feet as they whooped and hollered and clapped thunderously, Bobby practically had to yell in order to be heard. "May your love grow ever stronger as you ride through life together, overcome any obstacle and weather any storm! You have made your promises and exchanged your rings! By the power vested in me by the Universal Church of Elvis, I now pronounce you two hunka-hunka burning loves, biker and old lady!"

Pulling Fawn into his arms, Opie lifted her off the ground by the waist as she kicked her feet back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Snaking his arm around Ellie's shoulders, Harry gave his twin a tight squeeze as they watched their father and Fawn seal their union as Mr. and Mrs. Winston with a long kiss.

Catching Ellie's eye, Tiki Munson was clapping his hands and whistling as he stood in a sea of leather in between Juice and Chibs, who were doing the same. As their eyes locked, Tiki threw Ellie a barely perceptible wink and Ellie felt the immediate heat burning her ears. They shared a knowing smile as if they could almost read each other's minds.

_Our time will come._

_**To Be Continued . . .** _


End file.
